


Paint Me Like a Flower (with the tip of your tongue)

by fluffynarwhal



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Larry Stylinson - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry, Cancer, Crying, DID I MENTION THE HAPPY ENDING, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, I cannot stress this enough, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Medical Conditions, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Cancer, Name Calling, No Character Death, Rimming, Top Louis, Undergoing edits, all the family members are here bc let's be honest, but that is in a specific chapter that i will warn beforehand, cancer is mentioned, chaptered fic, detailed depictions of treatment for cancer, give her a chance though, god did i mention the tears this monster holds, harry is louis' baby, i will include trigger warnings before each chapter, i'll explain the change in chapter 10, idk what else to tag tbh, larry stylinson - Freeform, lets be honest, omg there is literally so much crying in this, one direction - Freeform, some smut, the ending is happy, there is drug use and an overdose, this fic is basically a family reunion honestly, this is definitely ot5, who doesn't love rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-06-11 06:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15309408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fluffynarwhal/pseuds/fluffynarwhal
Summary: Harry cleared his throat and turned on his heels quickly. “Tell me to leave and you won’t have to see me again,” he said again as Louis’s hand reached out for the doorknob.Louis stopped his movements and froze on the spot, considering his options. He inhaled sharply and turned the doorknob just an inch. Harry watched as Louis’s head glanced in his direction before a moment for it was back to the door. His shoulders rose in a deep breath and on his exhale, he murmured, “Don’t leave,” barely above a whisper. With that, he was gone out the door, the soft click of the lock sounding through the room.It'd been three years. Three years of partying, pain, and coming to terms with Harry's past. It had been even longer since he had been clean and sober. When an accident lands him in the hospital, his past comes back to haunt in the shape of lost brotherhood, a brutal family counseling session, and road trip across the country to try and mend two broken hearts. It's then, Harry is thrown into a whirlwind of pain, tears, and a life he never expected to live.'paint me like a flower with the tip of your tongue and take away my pain'





	1. part one chapter one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love each and every one of you who have read this and supported me through and through. 
> 
> Before we get into the actual story, there are a few things I need to cover. First and foremost, I want to say thank you to my readers, those who have commented, and even those who have liked and bookmarked this piece of work. I love you with all my heart. Thank you to my girls for supporting me and pushing me to get this done. Thank you to Megan, my beta for this; you pure soul, i love you more than words can describe, especially when we have shared dreams (yes that is something that actually happened). 
> 
> I want everyone to know that while editing this, I have changed a few things. If you would like to have the original PMLAF, I have saved it as a pdf and will gladly share it. The original is so important to me, and I assume to others as well, so i will always keep it close to my heart. 
> 
> This is going to be a chaptered fic to relate closer to the novel that will be published. 
> 
> SPEAKING OF NOVELS. THIS BABY IS GETTING PUBLISHED YALL. The published version is going to be on Wattpad. You can find that with the username @pmlafoffical
> 
> Please keep in mind that as this is undergoing updates, I will be posting accordingly. So, each chapter will be posted. At this moment in time, it is considered a WIP. I hate that you guys have to deal with me during that, but please trust me that the end product is going to be incredible. 
> 
> Within each chapter, you will also notice that there are song titles here and there. At the beginning of each chapter, I'll include the songs in bulk so you can have them pulled up. Once the work is finished, I'll publish the Spotify playlist to listen to with it. If you do listen to the songs, I promise it makes the experience all the better. 
> 
> Once again, I love each and every one of you. 
> 
> Have so much fun, lovelies. 
> 
> All my love,  
> K xxx
> 
>  
> 
> Songs Used In Chapter One  
> The Wolf in your Darkest Room - Matthew Mayfield  
> Wolves - Down Like Silver  
> For Good - Kooma

**_"HARRY STYLES AND LOUIS TOMLINSON FIGHT OUTSIDE OF A LOCAL BAR. IS THIS THE END OF ONE DIRECTION?_ **

_After an exciting night at the BRITs, One Direction pop stars find their way to local pub. Winning two awards, Best Group and Album of the Year, the boys decided on a celebration. Soon after, sources say Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson tumble out of the pub in a brawl. Liam Payne, Niall Horan, and Zayn Malik try to break up the fight. Many patrons in the bar say Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson exchanged violent words before retiring outside. Four of the boys refused to say anything after the ordeal, aside from Liam Payne. When asked, he explained that, ‘We had a bit too much to drink tonight, and things got a little heated. Five rowdy boys doesn't normally mix well with alcohol, and tonight was no exception.’ Why did the two get into a fight? What would the other boys have to say for themselves? Poor Louis, he looked so heartbroken that night."_

 

 

** The Wolf In Your Darkest Room – Matthew Mayfield **

Harry threw the three-year old newspaper across the floor, watching it slide along the hardwood. It stopped at the wall just by the plaques, hitting one with just enough force that it fell, hitting the ground and shattering, echoing within his entire home. He groaned loudly and scrubbed the side of his face. His head swam in his high, making his temples pulse only slightly. Beside him, his fingers touched remains of the white powder that coursed through his veins. He glanced down at it and scowled.

“You have no power over me,” Harry whispered, his bottom lip wobbling from where he pinched it between his fingers. _I have all the power over you, Harry_.

The song playing in the room changed, one of _One Direction’s_ first songs, one off their first album. Niall’s voice lightened up the spare room, Harry smiling softly and closing his eyes to soak in his friend’s tone. God help Niall, the blessing. The blonde, bundle of joy was a magnificent being to sit and admire. His humor was bright and hilarious, and his sense of patience was something Harry could envy. Bless him and his ability to bring smiles wherever he went.

After staring at the glass shards on the ground, seeing his sixteen-year-old self in each piece, touring the world and performing in front of thousands of people, Harry peeled himself off the floor and left the room he occupied, slamming the door behind him, echoing the sound through his house.  

Even after all these years, the thought of that night’s events made him sick to his stomach. There were nights he’d spend alone in his bathroom, throwing up every bit of his stomach contents and then some because he’d had a dream or saw a tweet about one of the other boys. Memories were hard to erase, especially since Harry spent a good portion of his free time in his home surrounded by awards and plaques _One Direction_ received over the years.

Coke was something that helped. It took the pain from losing his band, losing his friends, and losing the man that meant the most to him away. Even if it only lasted for a little while, it was better than dealing with the pain constantly. He could catch a break from it and float mindlessly for a few hours, free of regret and guilt. Free of everything. However, like all drugs, the high never lasted long enough.

His heart hurt. To be fair, his entire body hurt with the numbing kind of pain. The pain that keeps you awake at night and makes you want to cry, even when you physically cannot will yourself to do it. The kind of pain that cannot be fixed with medication. It was the kind of pain that left you exhausted after sleeping all day.

Having had enough of being alone in his large home, Harry walked to his bedroom and dressed himself in a simple tee shirt and jeans, not bothering to throw on a coat or a hat to cover his ears. He grabbed his keys on the way out, locking his front door quickly and making his way towards the car that was parked in front of his house. Climbing in the driver seat, Harry made slow movements to insert his keys in the ignition, lighting the car with gusto. He buckled his seat belt in one swift move, then drove away from the house, down the driveway, out the gate, and onto one of the quieter roads of the city.

Harry enjoyed driving. He liked the feeling of speeding down the motorway, passing cars and flying by cops. He liked the feeling of flying. He and Liam used to drive when they were younger, a body guard following them at all times. They would drive around to different cities for hours, blaring music and laughing at interview incidents.

One thing Harry missed, was the company of his bandmates. Being in a band of five, plus the actual instrument-playing members, there was never a dull moment. With four tour busses, vans to hold security, and more hotel rooms than Harry could count, when he was on tour, or surrounded by his mates for any reason at all, he felt at home.

Harry was used to having company, whether he was on tour or when he was in his own home. Hosting parties was something Harry decided might help fill a void in his heart. Part of him thought it would make his life feel less empty, having an abundance of friends to share his life with. Instead, with everyone in his home, in his privacy, in his personal life – it made him feel more uncomfortable than being alone. It felt as though each person he surrounded himself with could see through his façade, and figured out the secrets he tried so desperately to keep.

When Harry was alone, he would be confined to his thoughts, constantly worrying about how he could have saved his band, his brothers. He played out scenarios in his head about what would happen if he spoke to any of them now; whether or not they would speak to him or turn him away as if they had been doing for the previous three years. Harry even went to some of their concerts to see them live. While he could not force himself to try and contact the other boys, he turned to his songwriting. He wrote eleven songs in total about the downfall of _One Direction_ , but never once took them to the studio. Instead, he kept them hidden in a tear-splattered journal, the one he used to write in for the band. He did release a few singles, but never put anything together for an EP or an album. The last time he wrote anything, he cried himself to sleep, and woke up with his pillow drenched.  

It happened very quickly, the end of _One Direction_. One day they were finishing a worldwide tour, attending an award show. Before he knew it, Harry was sitting in the car with Niall, a sour look on his face each time he faced the younger boy. In a few days’ time, the band was signing paperwork regarding the end of their contract. Harry had nightmares; even months after that day, seeing Louis huddled up to Zayn’s side, clutching him like a vice. His cheeks were blotchy and red, tear stained. It was one of the most profound images Harry had ever seen: the man he was still in love with, unable to look at him in the eye. It was awful.

** Wolves – Down Like Silver **

Driving around the small town, Harry noticed the way the city was so dimly lit during the winter months. The street lamps were covered in snow, and would eventually freeze over completely, not showing any light whatsoever. He loved his little castaway town and the shallow lights that lit it up because it resembled his world so intimately. Some nights he wanted so badly to touch those frozen lamps. He could, if he really wanted to, but always thought it better to stay in the car. He wanted to see what it would feel like to touch something that would send a jolt of energy through his body. Harry wished he could jump out of his car and touch the light for just a moment. He somehow thought it would light his body again. 

Before, when his hands spread warmth throughout them, and only brought life and happiness to anything they touched, Harry knew he was alive. He could feel warm blood pumping through his veins. Now he felt as if he was a lifeless vessel trying to make it through to the next day. The ship he was steering in life was now littered with holes, all in the bottom of the cargo, and he could not find a way to plug all the holes before he sunk. Harry dreamed of the day he could finally touch another person and not feel ice, pain, numbness. He dreamed of a day when his body would feel like his again.

Harry stopped at a stop sign and watched as the wind whipped the trees surround the street. The street he sat at was quiet; a road that was really only used during the day when truck drivers would take it as a short cut around the city. Keeping his car idle, Harry breathed out a heavy breath, one carrying his pain and his strife. _How cliché_ , he thought to himself. He could see his breath before him, even though his car ran heat on full blast. He hit the steering wheel hard with his fist before he slammed his car in park. Harry jumped out of his car and left the door open, walking slowly into the middle of the street. Snow flurries fell to the pavement, not yet sticking, but still promising signs of a snow filled winter. He held his hands up to catch falling snow between his fingers, smiling against the harsh wind that stung his nose and the tips of his fingers. His arms, still out beside him, felt weak in the cold. Harry didn’t mind it, honestly. It was a break from the lack of feeling anything at all.

It’s an odd occurrence, being numb for so long before one simple act blooms pain in Harry’s limbs. _Feeling pain is better than feeling anything at all_ , he used to tell his therapist. The drugs and the alcohol gave him something to feel. Waking up the next day with a hangover from hell, a headache that made him curse the world – it made him feel something. _Anything_. It almost made him feel human.

Harry used to reference a book to his therapist – a romance novel about cancer, eventually made into a movie – and used a certain phrase whenever he could. “Pain demands to be felt,” he would say, mostly to himself. It was an irony in a way, pain demanding to be felt, when Harry was so used to feeling nothing at all. Something inanimate, telling Harry exactly just how he should feel, and when he should feel it. It was an absurd notion, which a feeling can demand to be felt. What is that about? What in God’s name let that book out into the world, when they knew it would mess with his mind?

To be fair, however, the paranoid thoughts were to blame on the coke. A nasty drug, that one. Harry always told children never to do drugs, not that they would listen. The thought was still there.

Harry stood out in the middle of the street for what seemed like hours. His eyelashes froze together like a story out of a children’s book. He felt like a princess, standing in the snow, feeling like he could control the icy flurries that fell around him. His lips were beginning to turn blue against the wind, but his eyes didn’t water like they did when he first climbed out of his car. He was content, feeling this cold. He was happy with feeling _something_. Harry smiled to himself and ran his fingers through his hair, which was frozen in chunks. He no longer cared how cold he was, or how sick he was going to be after this. All he cared about was the feeling of peace that ran his blood warm from the inside while his skin froze on the outside.

He was content in that moment. More content than he had been in years.

Everything about being there, feeling cold but warm at the same time. Feeling no pain whatsoever, just the constant feeling of nothingness. Confetti snow showers, falling around him like rain. He felt nothing. No pain, no happiness. Nevertheless, he was still content. Very content.

Harry let his arms fall to his sides, debating on whether or not to go home. Finally, he relented and sulked back to his car, his limbs shaking but still warm. He climbed into the car and drove into the middle of the road while there was still no sign of other cars, waiting for the heat of the car to defrost his lips and hair. A relaxed feeling surrounded his body in a blanket of warmth as he sat back in the driver’s seat.

Well, it did until it was too late to see the eighteen-wheeled truck heading for him, breaks squealing as it tried to come to a stop.

~

 

** For Good - Kooma **

Harry forced his eyes to open, a gasping breath pulled into his lungs as he blinked away the tears that flooded his eyes. His body felt like it was on fire, and his head pounded in his skull. He lifted a hand to his head and when he brought it down to eye level, it was covered in blood. All at once, Harry finally noticed the lights around him, blinking red and blue in the night sky. Snow fell around him still, falling across his lips and nose. His legs were numb when he tried to move them to stand.

Suddenly, a man materialized at his side, along with two others near his legs. He lifted his head but felt his drop back on the asphalt. Wait, why was he on the asphalt? He was in his car. He was supposed to be in his car. Harry needed to get off the ground, he had to get up.

“Hang on, hang on, sweetheart,” a female voice said from above him. “Try not to move right now. We’re going to get you onto a stretcher.” He glanced up and found a woman, dressed in blue holding a mask in her hand. “Can you tell me your name?” she asked.

The men at Harry’s feet began working quickly, and Harry meant to reply to her when a shooting pain licked right up his leg and into his back. He cried out in pain when it registered, and tried to move his body away from the hands of those probably just helping him.

“Fracture in the leg, possible hip displacement,” one man reported, his voice gruff. In one swooping movement, his body was placed on a plastic surface with cotton lining. The men around his legs strapped them down across his shins, careful of the apparent fracture.

Harry turned his head to the side as a wave of nausea rolled through him, causing him to vomit. The woman dropped the mask and called for help, motioning for the other men to stop and help turn his body a bit, so he could expel what was left in his stomach. She rubbed her hand along his back as he retched and coughed, the bile burning his throat as it came up. When he was finished, she helped him lay back down, positioning something under his neck.

It was chaos around him, people moving around so quickly they blended in with the lights that flashed in the sky. He stared at the sky, the world tilting on its axis. He could hear voices asking him questions, but he could find it in himself to care.

Some appeared next to him, a different woman this time. Her hair was blonde and her eyes were blue, just like someone he used to know years past. He focused on her questions as they came through his ears.

“Hi, my name is Alexa. Can you tell me your name, honey?” she asked just like the other woman had. He opened his mouth to speak but noticed the breathing mask on his face. He scrunched his nose and furrowed his eyebrows, lifting a hand to his face languidly. The woman caught on and lifted the mask away. “Is that better?” she wondered. Harry nodded and attempted to form words.

“Harr – H – Harry,” he mumbled, his words slurring together. “Styles.”

“Harry Styles,” she said. Harry nodded. “Harry, do you know what happened?” she pressed.

“In – in the – car, I was – the car.”

“You were in your car, yes, that’s great, Harry. The truck driver that hit you said you were stalled in the middle of the street,” she explained. The truck? Oh god, there was a truck. It hit him, didn’t it? Had he been hit by a truck?

“M’ wa – “ he tried to explain.

“Your what?”

“Wallet,” he finally shoved out in one exhale. She nodded fervently, looking around to the other people around.

“I’m going to see if I can find your wallet, alright, Harry?” she asked. He nodded again but stopped when the nausea came back. He felt himself gag just slightly but he forced it down. The woman was gone for what seemed like an hour, but when she did resurface by his side, she was holding his tattered wallet in her hands. Harry watched her flip through until she found what Harry knew she was looking for. “Harry, there’s a next of kin note in here. Do you want me to call that person?” she inquired.

“Who?”

“I have two names in here, love. Louis Tomlinson and Anne Styles. Is Anne your mother?” Harry nodded slightly. Alexa looked at the other name. “Who is Louis?”

Harry didn’t hesitate before he looked at her with tears in his eyes and replied, “My person.”

“Who do you need me to call, Harry? Can you tell me who you want to contact?” Harry couldn’t form anymore words, breathing becoming hard to do. The girl instinctively slid the mask back over his face and held the note up. Harry lifted his finger as Alexa held out the paper, He thoughtlessly pointed to Louis’ name and dropped his hand back down to the stretcher. Alexa nodded and pulled a phone out of a pocket in her vest. She dialed a number and put the phone to her ear.

“Louis,” he whimpered, warm tears washing the blood in streaks down his face. “My Lou.”

There were suddenly more people lifting Harry into an ambulance and strapping him in. Alexa followed him, sitting beside him and taking his hand when Harry reached out for hers. “Hello, is this Louis Tomlinson?” she asked into the phone.

“ _Louis_ ,” Harry whispered once more.

“My name is Alexa with the paramedics. Harry Styles has just been in an accident, and we are taking him to Hopkins County Memorial Hospital,” she recited. The was quiet for a moment. “No, no, we are taking him to the hospital for a possible fracture, and concussion. I’m sure the doctors will give you more information when you reach the hospital.” She squeezed Harry’s hand. “We will be there in about ten minutes. I’ll make sure to let the nurses know you’re on your way.” After she ended the phone call, she dialed the number for his mother and recited the same thing to her, mentioning that Louis would be there as well.

“Louis,” Harry said quietly.

Alexa hung up the phone and put it next to her. “Louis is going to be there, sweetheart. I need you to hang on just a little bit longer for me, though, alright? He’s going to be there. Your mom will meet us there.”

Harry felt his head spin again, but this time he didn’t need to vomit. He felt his eyes flutter and his heart rate quicken.

“Harry, hang on, we’re almost there,” a voice said distantly.

There were flashes of white and red.

“Harry, come on, squeeze my hand.”

Harry felt his body spark in a far away part of his mind.

After that, there was nothing.

 


	2. part one chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To find the official posting of the novel to be published, hop on over to my accounts. If you have any questions, feel free to send me a message!  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter - @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram - @kait.wright
> 
> Songs Used in Chapter Two  
> If I Go, I'm Goin - Gregory Alan Isakov  
> Insanity - Man Made Time  
> Bliss - Muse  
> Idaho - Down Like Silver  
> Howlin' For You - The Black Keys  
> Amen - Natalie Taylor

 

  **If I Go, I’m Goin – Gregory Alan Isakov**

Flashes of white light and beeping filled Harry’s mind. His body was numb, and his head swam in waves, swinging back and forth. Distantly, he recognized voices, female voices surrounding him. There was another voice in the mix, a voice that was deeper than a female’s, but so familiar. It was odd, knowing that voice but not being able to place it.

It sounded like an altercation between the female voice he heard, and the other male voice. If Harry could just open his eyes and see who was filling the void around him.

A hand touched his hand. It was soft, smooth, but rough against the pads of the fingers that traced Harry’s hand. The owner of the hand was tentative at first, only touching softly. Then, the hand gripped Harry’s with force, and lips grazed the back of it. Harry felt his heart rate pick up as the person kissed his hand harder this time.

“I’m so sorry,” the voice spoke softly. Harry knew that voice from years ago. It was a soft kind of voice. A kind of voice in the summer with iced tea on the back porch. It was a home kind of voice. It was a voice Harry remembered when he was the happiest, and when he was the saddest.

Harry groaned, or at least he tried to, as he felt a tear hit the back of his hand. _Why can’t I just wake up?_

“I am so fucking sorry, Harry,” the voice said.. “Look at you, my love,” he said. “Look at what you’ve done.”

“The boys are going to be here soon, love. If you want to miss them, you’d better go now,” a female said. That was Harry’s mother. Still, who was the other one in the room?

“Fuck, okay,” the man said with a watery hiss. A door shut softly in the distance, and the man holding onto Harry’s hand began to weep. “When you wake up, and you better fucking wake up, Harry Styles,” The man sniffled loudly and more tears fell to Harry’s hand, “remember our sunsets, babe. Please, for the love of god, please, wake up and remember. Wake up and live. If I never see you again, and if you never remember this conversation, I need you to know that I still –“ he stopped speaking as another gruff sob echoed through the air.

Harry felt his hand twitch in the hand of the unknown man. The man gasped loudly and gripped tighter. When Harry used all his energy to make a noise from his throat, despite what felt like a breathing tube lodged in his throat, the man sobbed brokenly and leaned up to kiss Harry on the forehead.

“You’re so, so strong. I have to go now,” he said quietly, holding Harry’s hand with both of his now. “Please don’t hate me for leaving. Live. Wake up and live, Harry. I love you.”

And with that he was gone, leaving Harry drifting off again with the ghost feeling of lips pressed against his forehead, and a whispered, _‘I love you’_.

 

~

 

**_Six Days Later in the ICU: Hopkins County Memorial Hospital_ **

 

There were voices all around him. Female voices filled the room in conversations Harry couldn’t distinguish. They were familiar, so, so familiar. Suddenly, there was a male’s voice closer to his body, it was getting closer and closer as seconds passed. The other talking in the room stopped, bar the voice he heard from before. His toes twitched beneath what felt like a blanket, followed by his fingers moving out to grip onto something. A soft hand was placed on top of his left leg and soothed over the blanketed skin there. A flash of pain ripped down his right leg in bursts of white and red. Harry groaned softly at the pain and turned his head over. _Am I in a bed? I’m covered in blankets, but… where the hell am I?_ Harry considered all the possibilities, but came up with none. So, he willed his entire body to open his eyes and see what was going on.

“Harry, can you open your eyes for me?” a voice called. Holy shit. He hadn’t heard that voice in years. It was like a familiar angel calling for him, beckoning him. He felt his fingertips twitch at the voice. Harry couldn’t open his eyes, but he could feel the energy in the room. It was warm and inviting. “Come on, idiot, open your eyes so I can smack you,” the voice said again. Harry groaned inwardly and tried to smirk. His body could not cooperate. He knew who that voice belonged to. It was so hard to miss in a crowd, especially after spending so much time with that person. Harry learned to pick up on his voice eventually.

Harry tried to lift his heavy eyes one at a time. When he was finally able to do so, he could see Niall sitting on his bedside, holding onto his hand like his life depended on it. Harry smiled softly, almost grimly, at the boy before him and let out a soft sigh. Beside Niall, Liam was sitting straight up with a pillow shoved between his shoulder and his head, sleeping peacefully. Harry looked over to his left to find his mother and step-father waiting with bated breath. His sister, Gemma clutched on to their mother tightly. Harry lifted his left hand, Anne, his mother, running to his side and letting the tears fall. Robin remained next to Harry’s sister, rubbing the sides of her arms.

Turning back to his right where Niall was sat, tears falling down silently, Harry rested his hand atop his friend’s. Niall ducked his head against the bed. When he looked back up, Harry nodded his head in Liam’s direction. Niall followed his line of sight and stood up abruptly, snatching the pillow away and beating him with it. Anne chuckled at their behavior, Gemma giggling in her corner, and Harry letting out a quiet snort. Liam grabbed at his pillow but glanced down at Harry, causing his eyes to widen and bottom lip to quiver. He jumped out of his chair and fell beside the bed, gripping Harry’s hand.

“C’mere,” Harry rasped, lifting his arm, careful not to jostle the IV stuck in his hand, to give Liam enough room to crawl into his embrace. Liam took the hint and climbed off the floor, onto the bed, and against Harry’s side. He tucked his arms to his chest and tightened his grip on the hospital gown Harry wore. Before Harry could tell anyone to keep their tears at bay, he felt a warm spot on his chest where Liam cried, Niall sat holding on to Liam’s shirt like a vice, and his family were all in tears. Harry softly held onto Liam, running his hands through the boy’s milk chocolate curls. He’d have to ask him when he’d decided to cut it. 

“Jesus, why is everyone bloody crying?” a raspy voice called from the door. A curtain hung between Harry’s bed and the front of the room, so not much could be seen. Harry looked over to Niall as a plea. Niall smirked as the curtain moved, revealing a disheveled looking Zayn, dark circles under his eyes, and his black hair stuck to his forehead and sticking up in the back. As soon as Zayn met Harry’s gaze, the older boy dropped the bags he held in his hands and bolted towards his bed, pushing Liam out of the way so he could snuggle beside Harry.

After having a good cry, and Harry complaining of his throat being dry, Anne retired out into the hallway, Robin following her, to look for a nurse. Harry tried to readjust in bed, leaving Liam and Gen room from their places under his arms. Finding no release, he groaned in frustration, making his throat scream. Liam jumped away from his side and reached for the cup of water, guiding it to the younger boy’s lips. He gave a thankful smile and swallowed sips at a time.

“Jesus, Harry, slow down,” Gen complained from beside him. Harry shot her a glare and took an extra pull from the cup. She physically took it away from him and put it on her side of the bed.

“I can literally have anyone go get me another cup,” Harry spoke, the first time using his voice still deep and gravely. He let out a rough cough and a low groan.

“Your boys won’t. They’re scared of me, bubs,” she replied with a smug grin. Harry turned his head over to the three boys in question with a raised brow.

Zayn went pale, shaking his head and retreating to a chair across the room. Niall averted his gaze elsewhere and fiddled with his thumbs. Liam sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand atop Harry’s, a concerned look etched across his face.

“Your sister is the embodiment of the devil. To cross her would be endangering our safety,” he deadpanned. Harry snorted and rolled his eyes.

Turning to his sister, he mutters, “Suck ups, the lot of them.”

** Insanity – Man Made Time **

Not long after, Harry’s mother returns with a doctor and nurse in tow. The doctor was fairly large, the man covered in a beard that almost reached his chest. He had a soft smile and gentle steps as he strode into the room. The nurse behind him clutched onto a clipboard between her hands tightly, eyes scanning details rapidly. Anne and Robin sat in their chairs and waited for the doctor to speak.

“Harry, it’s wonderful to see you up and talking,” the doctor mused, offering his hand to shake. Harry took his hand and gave him a curt smile. “My name is Dr. Langston, and I’ll be making sure your treatment goes well while you’re here. With me today,” he motioned behind him to the young blonde with a pair of black glasses sitting atop her nose, “is Miss Penelope. She will be your nurse for the floor. I’ll be sure to have your second nurse, Sarah, stop by when she arrives for her shift.” Langston stopped to take in the people in the room. After exchanging a knowing look with Penelope, she sat down her clipboard at the end of the bed and turned to Harry’s family.

“We’re going to run some tests, some of which will require some privacy. If you’ll all wait in the hallway, I will retrieve you once we’re finished,” she explained. Anne nodded quickly and stood, grabbing Gen’s hand and pulling her from the bed. Zayn stood promptly, Liam and Niall following soon after. Once everyone vacated, Penelope turned to Harry and smiled. “Figured you may need a minute to breathe,” she muttered and got to work with her tests.

Harry let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and smiled thankfully. Langston pulled up a chair and sat down next to Harry’s bed. Taking the chart, he began looking through information before lifting his gaze back to the boy.

“I’m going to say no one has explained anything to you yet, no?” he wondered. Harry nodded silently. The doctor huffed and sat down the chart once more. “I’m going to explain this to you as easily as I can, and then I’ll discuss treatment options.”

“Jesus; must be something serious then,” Harry joked. Langston’s expression did not change as Penelope began taking his blood pressure and heart rate. He let her manipulate his body for her tests and whatever else she had planned.

“When first responders arrived at the scene, your heart stopped. I’m sure you’ve been feeling some pain in your chest, and once you shower, you’ll be able to see bruises from where the truck driver tried chest compressions,” Langston began to explain. Come to think of it, Harry’s chest did ache, but he attributed that to being out for god knows how long. He lifted his hospital gown away from his body and looked down, noticing the purple and blue shades that tattooed his torso. “Bringing you in, we knew your leg was broken. That much has been taken care of. It was just a fracture, something minute. Simple surgery that will have you healed and walking in a few weeks.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re keeping something from me?” Harry questioned, concern dripping through is words. Penelope ripped off the arm cuff and lifted the blanket away from his legs, showing off his shiny new cast, purple and yellow bruises seen near his knee. Langston cleared his throat.

“How about you tell me what you took the night of the accident?” Dr. Langston suggested. Harry gaped at him with a twinge of terror – and pain from Penelope sticking things near his goods – as he looked on. The doctor let out a knowing chuckle and plucked the clipboard, turning to a page, and handing it over to Harry. He took the papers and looked over the information he was given, eyes widening in shock. Harry didn’t even think about the drugs showing up in his bloodstream _. Time for denial._

“There’s no way; I haven’t done this shit –“

“Blood tests don’t come back false for drugs, Harry. In about three minutes, your family will walk back into this room, and I’m going to tell them about your treatment plans regarding a detox period. You have two options: deny the issue at hand and explain to your family and friends why there were traces of stimulants and synthetic opioids in your system, or you work with me. Your management team has already been contacted, and an NDA has been signed. The choice is yours with this one, but I suggest you make up your mind now.” Langston sat back in his chair after taking the clipboard back.

Harry had two options: deny the entire story, or agree to the terms and do the detox. If he was right, agreeing to the detox would keep him in the hospital to endure a rehab treatment. At first, the thought of rehab was daunting, but if he could stay in the hospital while doing it to make it seem like he was still recovering…. He could deal with that.

“I’m guessing Matt was the correspondence with my management team?” Harry asked. Langston nodded simply and turned to Penelope.

“Don’t forget about the catheter,” he mentioned. Before Harry could open his mouth to respond, Penelope ripped the sheets away from his body and began reaching for his private bits.

Harry gripped her arm tightly and shied away from her, resulting in his leg moving, a strangled cry of pain filling the room. “Listen here, lady, you stay away from the prized gems,” he spits. Penelope flashed him a devilish grin before reaching down and pulling the catheter away from his body, eliciting a high pitched shriek from the young man.

If anyone happened to hear the noise that Harry, a twenty-four-year-old man, made in that very moment, he would never admit to it.

“Do we have a deal, Harry?” Dr. Langston sighed, a smirk playing at the ends of his mouth. Harry cupped himself through the blanket after Penelope replaced it to finish her tests, glaring at the young woman. He turned to the doctor and ducked his head. “Penelope, would you go get Mr. Styles’s family so we can discuss his treatment plans?”

Harry snapped his head to the doctor with an incredulous look on his face. Finally, he relented with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Call Matt and settle the details with him. I’ll agree to whatever, but my family can’t find out about it,” he begged with whispers. Langston flashed him a satisfied smile and stood without another word. Before he allowed Penelope to go fetch Harry’s family, he spun on his heels and held a pen and the clipboard to him.

“By signing this, you’re giving your consent to participate in a detox that will last for the duration of your stay here. No one will mention the detox to your family and friends, that includes the nursing staff, counselors we have set up to help you with your physical therapy, and any other medical professional associated with your wellbeing. Whether or not you chose to tell your friends is up to you entirely,” Dr. Langston explained. “You have my respect, and with that comes my loyalty. You do your part, and I’ll do mine.”

Harry could only nod along with what the doctor was saying. His mind began to drift to another place, another home, where he could relax and rest. A few moments later, his family and band mates were walking back into the room quietly. Anne came to his bed and kissed the top of his hand as she settled into a chair. After discussing Harry’s treatment plan, bar the detox program, everyone agreed with the doctor and promised to do what they could to help. The doctor left shortly after, leaving Harry with his family.

“We’ll let you get some sleep, love. Your father, Gen, and I are going to the hotel. Do you want the boys to stay here with you?” Anne asked. Harry watched as his father and sister began packing up their things. He looked over to see three of his band mates waiting patiently by the door.

“Please stay?” he whimpered. Liam gave him a sympathetic smile and joined him, sitting beside his bed and pulling out his cell phone to play games. Zayn took over a chair, and Niall lifted his phone to his ear to call someone. Harry motioned towards Niall while looking at Liam. “What’s that about?” he asked. Liam snorted and shook his head.

“He’s the first and only one that’s married with a kid,” Liam whispered with a snicker. Harry gaped at him and let out a deep breath.

“Thought he’d be the last of us to get married if I’m honest,” Harry replied. Liam nodded.

“We all thought you’d be the first one,” Zayn piped from the corner, his accent having gotten thicker over the years. Liam shot him a warning glare.

There it was. The awkward silence forming around a conversation he wasn’t ready to have. Zayn was silent again, and Liam was still staring at the boy with daggers in his sight. The silence filled the room with a heaviness that Harry was all too used to. It was suffocating, like someone was pressing down on his chest and he had to lie there and take it. The feeling was unbearable.

Anne, bless her, cleared her throat and signaled the door. “We’re off, love. I’ll be back in the morning. If you need anything have Liam call me,” she said, dropping a kiss to Harry’s forehead.

“Did they find my phone in the car? I thought I put it in the passenger’s seat,” he wondered. Anne nodded and jerked her head in Liam’s direction.

“It was destroyed when the police found it. I’ll run by a store tomorrow and have them set you up a new one. Liam has my number and can call me if anything happens,” she explained. Harry nodded and kissed the tops of her knuckles. Gen and Robin walked to his bedside, giving him hugs and chaste kisses both. The boys were up next, hugs being spread. Even Niall gave Anne and Gems a tight hug before returning to his phone call.

As soon as they were out the door, Liam and Zayn pulled out a laptop from a bag, along with chords and different DVDs. Niall walked back to the group with his phone plastered against the side of his head. Zayn took to leaving the DVD boxes and chords on Harry’s bed and walked over to where Niall stood, taking his phone out of his hand.

“Jesus, dude, come on,” Niall whined. Zayn tutted and held him at arm’s length.

“Hey, it’s Zayn,” he said into the phone. “Of course… I will, babes. We are about to watch some movies and catch up with Harry. I’ll have him call you before we go to bed, I promise.” Niall made grabby hands for his phone, but Zayn shoved him a bit further.

“Zayn, give me my damn phone, you sick English bastard,” Niall cried. Liam and Harry snickered at the encounter.

“I love you too, and Niall loves you too,” Zayn giggled. Before Niall could get his phone back, he ended the call and handed the object over, making his way back over to help Liam set up the television.

“She’s going to kill me when I get home, you ass,” Niall hissed.

“We’re having bro time. You can call her later,” Liam said smugly.

Harry snuggled into the sheets, pulling them around his body despite the ache he felt in his bones. Liam glanced at him and his face softened substantially. Harry gave him a curt smile and shook his head, begging the older man to just leave it be. Thankfully, Niall huffing and tossing his phone into his bag brought Liam out of his trance and turned his attention back to Zayn and the television.

It took a total of thirty minutes to get the TV set up to watch a movie from the laptop. In that time, Harry squeezed in a five minute power nap but woke up to the sound of Niall almost knocking the damn thing off its post, Liam smacking him on the back of the head, and Zayn belly laughing from the floor. By the time it was set up and ready to go, Niall glared at Liam and refused to say anything to him, Zayn popped the disk into the laptop, and Liam gave Niall one more smack for sulking and acting like a child.

“If I didn’t know you boys any better, I’d say I was the oldest one in this room,” Harry muttered with an amused grin. Niall tossed a small pillow his way but missed him just so. “Don’t be glum just because you’re stuck with us.”

Zayn grabbed a blanket and climbed into the bed with Harry, leaving him enough room to get comfortable. “Come have cuddle, Niall,” Zayn teased as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle.

Niall made an undignified noise and sunk down into his chair. “You both are disgusting, and I hope you get an STD,” he replied, sending Harry into a fit of laughter, which hurt more than he intended, leaving him coughing harshly and clutching his side.

** Bliss – Muse  **

It felt like his entire torso was on fire, heaving in breathes of smoke and ash. His ribs ached and split down the middle. For a split second, Harry thought there could be something wrong internally. “Liam,” he whined.

“You okay?” Liam asked from the foot of the bed. Harry blinked and bit down on his lip to distract him from the pain. He nodded shortly and let out a shaky breath. “I’ll go get you some more pain medicine,” he decided, leaving the room.

Zayn took hold of Harry’s arm in the next second and pulled it away from his side. “Take a deep breath, Haz, come on, deep, in and out,” he soothed. Harry tried to calm his breathing, but the pain seemed to radiate from each corner of his body, unrelenting teeth that fed hungrily.

“Shit,” Harry hissed.

“He’ll be right back with some medicine, yes?” Zayn said. Harry tried to tether his mind to the boy’s words, forcing his heart rate to calm, his hands to stop clutching at his own skin, and ground himself. “There you go, in and out,” he praised.

“Never driving again, I swear to god,” Harry groaned.

Liam came back to the room with a nurse in tow, a vial of clear liquid in her hand. “The nurse is going to give you something for the pain, Harry, just you wait,” Liam said gravely.

“Sweetheart, I need to look at me,” the nurse tried. She brushed the hair away from Harry’s face and he forced his eyes open to see her grinning back at him. “Can you tell me what your pain is like right now?” she asked. Harry furrowed his brows and focused on her voice along with the steady reassuring pressure of Zayn’s hand.

“Fucking hurts,” he gritted. The nurse simply chuckled and flicked the vial.

“Can’t tell me what your pain is on the scale if you’re being a smart ass,” she retorted, and Niall snorted from behind her. “Tell me on the scale, love.”

“Nine, it’s nine right now,” Harry groaned. She gave him another smile and nodded, injecting the needle into the IV drip on his arm. With seconds, the pain began to subside, and his head cleared. Harry’s body relaxed and his hands let go of the gown he wore, slumping down at his side.

“Good lad,” she said with a pat to his head. She turned to the other boys, “Come find me if this happens again. It looks like it could be the pain from chest compressions. Watch him for a while; I gave him a dose of morphine, so he should be out pretty soon.”

Harry moved to his back and let Zayn baby him, pulling the sheets back around him. The nurse left, and the room flooded with the opening credits to whatever movie was chosen. It took all but six minutes for his eyes to feel heavy, and Harry was asleep before the boys could choose another movie.

 

** Idaho – Down Like Silver **

The next time Harry roused, there was a distant chatter going on in the background. He kept his eyes closed and shuffled in bed, wary of his side and leg, which hurt significantly less than before. Liam and Zayn shared a whispered conversation, Niall butting in when he could.

“I tried calling him, but he wouldn’t answer me. Can’t tell you how many voicemails I’ve left,” Liam explained with a distinguished sigh.

“I don’t understand why he isn’t more worried than he is,” Zayn grumbled from somewhere in the room. Niall snorted and hummed in agreement. “Did you see the look on his face when we saw him at that interview during the press conference? The one that just aired from Harry’s accident?” He began pacing the room in search of a water bottle.

Niall coughed quietly and rubbed his hands together. “My agent called me right after it released and threatened me if I said a single word about it. He wouldn’t make eye contact with us at all. The only time I got a second alone with him, he ran off with vodka in his hands. He looked like hell if I’m honest,” he replied as he opened a chocolate bar. “Seems to me like he’s good at the running away bit.” Taking a bite, Niall grunted. “Was he here before us?”

“For god’s sake, Niall, do you have to eat every twenty minutes?” Liam mused. Niall gasped and clutched his chest in faux horror.

“Listen here, Mr. I-Only-Eat-Kale, my wife happens to love me either way. How do you think I work off all the junk?” he winked and took a nibble. “Take notes, Liam, take notes,” Niall snickered. Zayn giggled and stopped in front of the boy, stealing a small bite of his sweet treat.

“When I got here, everyone else had already arrived. Only time I saw the sodding fucker was the press conference,” Zayn grumbled.

“Anne would tell us if he was here, right?” Niall wondered aloud. Harry got his answer to that question when the room was quiet.

A silence filled the room, Harry trying to contain his breathing to portray sleep. Liam was the first to speak, yet again.

“Do you think Louis is going to talk to him?” he wondered out loud. “Technically speaking – “

“Louis is thinking about himself in the situation. Technicalities are not an issue, you idiot,” Niall hissed. “If you think that just because we drag Harry across the country and just happen to show up at his doorstep, Louis is going to let us all in with open arms, you’ve got another thing to worry about.” He stopped to take a breath and a swig form his water. “We’re enemies to him. I hate to say that, but – “

“By siding with Harry, we’ve basically shown our allegiance,” Zayn murmured. Liam groaned.

“We didn’t take sides!” Liam snapped. “We all saw what happened that night, and we knew what it’d do to Harry. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but if trying to make sure our friend didn’t choke on his own vomit was pledging my allegiance to him, then send me to House Styles. He’s being an idiot and we all know how he can be when he sets his mind on something.” Liam plunked down in a chair and huffed, ripping his phone out of his pocket and dialing a number.

“Who are you calling now?” Niall inquired. Liam gave him a sideways glare.

“I’m calling the man of the hour,” he replied, putting the phone against his ear. It rang for a moment before someone picked up on the other line. Liam waited for the other end of the line to grow quiet before he spoke.

“This won’t end well,” Zayn noted quietly, Niall nodding in agreement.

“You don’t want to talk to me or the guys, and that’s fine. You don’t have to talk; however, you’re going to listen to me,” Liam hissed. He went quiet for a moment. “No, I don’t really care for pleasantries. Would you care to know where we are at the moment?” he asked the receiver. “Not even close, bud. I’m sitting in a chair, Zayn is laying on an extra bed, and Niall is sitting beside a hospital bed. Harry’s hospital bed. And if you think you’re going to get off by ignoring this… You’re an idiot, Louis. An absolute idiot.”

“Laying it on thick,” Niall commented. “Twenty bucks says Louis hangs up on him,” he grinned at Zayn, who chuckled lightly and shook his head, reaching over to knock their fists together.

“Make it thirty,” Zayn laughed. Liam sent them both the bird.

“You better have your house cleaned,” Liam said to the phone. “Get rid of all the beer and make sure you keep your company out for a few weeks. I’ll let you know when we get closer.” Liam glanced to Harry, and his features softened. “He’s not who he used to be. He’s changed, Louis. You’ll see when we get there. Clean your house. Get rid of the beer,” he added with a light growl. With that, he took his phone away from his face and ended the call, putting it back in his pocket and settling in the chair.

“Son of a bitch,” Niall grumbled and pulled his wallet out, handing over the cash to Zayn, who snickered. Harry let their laughs lull him back to sleep, dreaming of blue eyes and seas to match.

 

~

 

** Howlin’ For You – The Black Keys **

Early the next morning, all was quiet in the hospital room. Zayn and Liam spooned on the extra bed, and Niall cuddled close to Harry in his bed. The heart monitor was now just a low hum, each boy’s breath slow and calibrated. It was then Niall ripped one loud enough to wake Harry from his deep sleep. Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust and waved his hand to clear the air around his nose, sitting up in his bed and pulling the blankets up around his neck, the air conditioning in the room a bit too low for his liking. He glanced around at his friends who slept peacefully.

His stomach flipped for a second before it mellowed out. Harry leaned back to the bed with one hand on his stomach, the other one ready to reach for Niall in case he needed to wake him. The feeling came back to his stomach, but instead of intense butterflies like it felt like previously, it was a sharp pain in his side. Harry cried out pain, clutching his stomach and reaching for Niall.

Niall sputtered awake when Harry’s hand slapped him in the face, but his sour expression was replaced with concern as seconds passed. “Shit, what happened?” Niall questioned. Harry reached for the nurse’s button on the remove for his bed, barely beyond the touch of his fingers. “Liam, get a nurse!” he cried.

“You’re fucking farts, Niall, I swear to god,” Harry wailed. Niall squawked and climbed away from the bed, Liam coming to and taking in the situation.

“What the hell did you do?” he asked Niall with worried eyes. Niall tried to turn Harry over on his back to alleviate the pain of his side, but each way he moved sent Harry into a frenzy of pained grunts. Liam shoved Zayn to wake him up and ran for the door, calling out for Sarah.

“Press the – the medicine – shit, the button, Niall, press the fucking button,” Harry hissed. Niall fumbled with the remote once he found it and pressed down on the red button harshly, gripping Harry’s hand in his as a distraction.

“Where does it hurt, Harry?” he asked. When the younger boy did not answer him, Niall pushed the hair away from Harry’s forehead and yanked on it, forcing Harry to look up at him. “Tell me where it hurts or I’ll resort to drastic measures,” he pressed, the threat hanging loosely in the room.

Harry rolled his eyes and grit his teeth, reaching over to touch Niall on his side, beneath his ribcage, more so in the center of his torso. He took a deep breath and removed his hand just slightly before punching Niall in the same spot he touched. Niall let out a rush of air from between his lips and bent over, clutching the sore spot. “Drastic measures, my ass,” Harry spat with a smirk. Niall yanked at his hair once again.

“Bastard,” he choked. Glancing over at Zayn, he could see the boy had fallen back asleep. “Lazy shit.”

“Your farts are foul,” Harry hissed. Niall giggled and nodded his head.

“Good thing my wife has to put up with me for the rest of her life.”

“Can’t wait to see what your kids say about you when you get older,” Harry replied with a small grin.

Niall hummed in agreement and shrugged his left shoulder. “I’ll just have to remind my daughter of all the times she shat on my lap. Imagine my speech at her wedding.”

Harry giggled but groaned in pain soon after. “She won’t ever let you talk at her wedding,” he said quietly.

“When hell freezes over, probably,” he replied. Liam and Sarah came running through the door a moment later, clipboard in hand, and a vial of medicine in the other.

“Hey, Harry. Liam said you’re in some pain, yes?” she asked. Harry nodded and pointed to the spot on his torso where it hurt the worst. “I’m going to put some pressure here, and I want you tell me what level your pain is on right now,” she instructed. Harry nodded once more and moved his hands away from his body, his left hand gripping Niall’s arm tightly, and his right hand tightening around the bed frame.

“It’s at a – shit – argh! – a ten – a fucking ten,” he grumbled, Sarah pushing on the spot again. He cried out in pain, Niall following soon after from Harry’s grip on his hand.

Sarah pushed a button on the remote and phoned the nurse’s station. “We have a possible gallbladder infection, possible pancreatitis. Page Langston right now, I’m getting Harry Styles to prep.” Niall stepped out of her way when she began taking wires from Harry’s monitors and strapping them to his hospital bed.

A nurse’s voice came through the remote as she pulled the guardrails on the bed up. “Langston is on his way. I am writing down his symptoms, an OR is prepping already. List them for me,” the male voice spoke.

Sarah turned to Harry and lifted his hospital gown away from his body. She placed her hand against the skin gingerly, and then moved it to his forehead. “Fever is low grade but steadily rising. Muscles around the surrounding area are swollen and beginning to harden. Skin has progressed to a jaundice shade. Patient says pain is at a ten on a scale. Send two nurses down to the room,” Sarah explained. The male nurse hummed and ended the call. Two nurses burst through the door, moving the boys out of their way.

Liam kissed Harry’s forehead quickly before they wheeled him out of the room. “I’ll call your family and let them know. We’re not going anywhere.” Harry gave him a quick nod and then he was gone, the nurses carrying him down the hallway. Once the room was silent, Niall turned to Liam and took a deep breath, exhaling as he wrapped his arms around the taller boy. Liam sniffled in Niall’s ear and willed his tears to remain at bay. “Poor kid can’t catch a break,” he commented when they broke apart. “Most action I’ve seen in weeks.”

From the other side of the room, Zayn shuffled in his bed and turned on his side to face the two boys in the middle of the room. Liam and Niall glanced over at him, his mouth opening to inhale a loud, obnoxious snort, causing him to cough.

“Insufferable,” Niall whispered.

~

 

** Amen – Natalie Taylor **

The next time Harry woke up, he was back in his room. Quickly scanning the occupants, he found his mother to be the only one with him. She sat in the corner quietly knitting. Harry sighed softly, causing Anne to look up from her work. She climbed from her chair and put down the yarn and needles, crossing the room to sit on the side of Harry’s bed.

“Hi,” he croaked. Anne smile softly and carded her fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face.

The air around the two was suddenly charged, thick with emotions: regret, disappointment, pain, sorrow, but still full of love. Harry could see the way his mother looked on to her son with eyes of unconditional love. He felt her skin, the same skin that used to shield him from the outside world. Her hair that smelled of honeysuckle and lavender. Her hands, rough and calloused, pushed his hair away from his face once more and it was as if he could see again.

Since the accident, the only thing on Harry’s mind was getting healthy so he could show Louis he was not a disappointment. At first, that was all he thought about. _I have to get better for Louis; he will not ever have to be disappointed in me; once I am clean, he will want to be with me_. The mantras that repeated repeatedly in his mind seemed so trivial when looking at his mom in that moment.

She was his window, the barrier between what he knew as pure and what he knew as evil. His mother was the one constant thing in his life, and that alone meant more to him than anything in the world. She was pure, she was sure, and she was constant.

Harry blinked wide as he looked at his mother, his bottom lip trembling in the darkness of the room. Anne’s face softened and she shuffled up the bed and lay beside him. Harry’s nostrils flared and a single tear rolled down his cheek, a quiet sob falling from his lips before he could stop it.

Anne wrapped her arms around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him to her body, letting him cry into her fuzzy sweater.

“I’m s-so s-sorry, momma, I’m –“

“Shh, baby, you’re alright,” she cooed, rubbing a hand between Harry’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, my love.”

“I’m the fucked up druggie in a failed boyband,” Harry cried. He clutched his mother’s shirt in his fingers, his shoulders shaking with each sob. “I fucked up, momma. I fucked up and he’s never going to forgive me.”

Anne rubbed the back of Harry’s head, her fingers running through the ends of his hair, her other hand holding his shoulders. She was quiet for a moment and let Harry cry. Let him get the tears out while he had the chance. And it was nice. It was cathartic to cry. Especially after not being able to show any kind of emotion in the past few weeks due to the other boys being there with him. He had free vein to cry and sob all over his mom’s shirt, holding her like his lifeline.

Harry missed Louis.

He missed the short, obnoxiously loud personality that was Louis. The way his blue eyes light up each time Niall suggested something mischievous, the way they softened at the edges when he looked at Harry. His hands, soft and delicate, gentle against Harry’s heart, the skin between his shoulder and neck, the small of his back, and the ends of his hair. Louis’s hair in Harry’s fingers, the goosebumps that littered Louis’s flesh behind Harry’s soft touch. A Sunday morning lie in with slow, stolen kisses in the sunlight that poured into the room, blankets wrapped around the two like a safety net from the outside world.

Louis was sunshine and lightening in one person. He was energy and a Saturday afternoon kick around. He was looking at the stars at night for twenty minutes, and jumping into a lake when he could not sit still for any longer. He was a poem that broke your heart and put you right back together within three lines. He was confetti, colorful and falling around Harry like snow, or rain; warm and inviting, vibrant and endearing. Louis was the lightening to Harry, loud and booming. He was also a warm cup of tea on a cold morning, a fireplace with a fire, a record player with their favorite Stones album playing softly through the house, a England summer night with lightening bugs and cold water.

Louis was his sunshine, thunder, and warm rain on his cheek.

“There’s nothing we can do to change the past, my love,” Anne soothed quietly. Harry nodded, curling himself around his mother the best he could with his current predicament. “Do you remember when we used to sit outside and watch the sunset soldiers?” she asked. Harry sniffled loudly and shook his head. Of course, he knew what his mother was talking about, but the stories she used to tell made him feel so much better as a child. Therefore, he played dumb, and it worked.

Anne stood from the bed and opened the curtains by the window. Harry turned over on his right side and let his jaw hang open, the last bit of sunshine flooding the hospital room. The sky painted with soft hues of purple, pink, orange, and blue. A sunset made for kings, rich in color and beauty. Harry sighed softly at the sight and wiped away the tears from his face.

His mother joined him back on his bed, cuddling behind him and wrapping her arm around his middle. With her other hand, she propped herself up on her elbow and slid her fingers through Harry’s hair.

“Sunsets remind me of you and Louis,” Harry spoke softly. Anne hummed and squeezed his tummy, careful of his previous surgery.

“They make me think of you and your sister,” Anne replied. “I remember when I first brought you and Gemma outside with me one night. You just had to bring your favorite teddy bear –“

“Mr. Sniffles was my best friend,” Harry defended with a giggle-laced sob.

“Always had Mr. Sniffles under your arm when you went outside,” she chuckled. Harry snuggled deeper into his mother’s arms and started at the window to watch the setting sun.

Anne went on to tell him the first story of the sunset he could remember. The four of them, Harry, his mother, Gemma, and their father would sit outside once a week as the sun would set over the horizon while Anne spoke of stories about the sunset soldiers.

“The sunset is a glorious sight to behold. On a clear day, when clouds dissipate into thin air like a breath taken and exhaled in a snow riddled alleyway, or the iridescent azure seas and amethyst flowers that mix with shades of amber to create a setting so wonderful, so incredible that even a picture will never do it justice. On a clear day when birds sit calmly on their lines, with bellies full and a gentle breeze blowing through clothes, a tall glass of water sitting on top of a table near an old orchard, that is where you’ll find me.” Anne kissed the back of Harry’s head and held him close.

“Among the magnificent picturesque views of the world, the one I will always remember, even on the days when my seas have turned into hurricanes and my submarine is trying to swim against the current, you will find me by an old orchard, with my water and a cat sleeping soundly at my feet. You’ll find me in the warmth of the fluffy, white sheets that wrapped around my bed, a cuppa between my fingers, and the fireplace crackling into the chimney. You will find me standing within the city, in the middle of winter, when snow falls continuously, and every exhale is a cloud of hope for spring. You will find me telling my first child the night they are born, as we watch out the window of our hospital room, about the soldiers following the sunset home to their loved ones. You will find me telling my child of beautiful scene painted before us as we wrap ourselves in blankets.  

“It was said that a sunset has been a sign of hope. A sign of relinquished hardships, dropping the heavy rocks like rain that falls from dark skies. There’s a tale I will tell my children when I have my first, and even still when my grandchildren’s eyes crinkle with joy while mine are with age. I promise to tell them my tale until I can no longer speak on my own. I promise to tell them my tale of the Sunset Soldiers.

“Long ago, when time was nonexistent, and clocks had not been invented, soldiers were sent away as wee babs to be taught to fight with swords and bows. They are taught to defend themselves in time of need and protect those close. They were taught to be soldiers, brave and mighty, trained to stand against forces of evil, forged in a hell they would not find peace from.

“The single thing that gave those soldiers hope was a sunset. You see, a sunset is many things. The sun itself is a being born of fire and married to the moon, set to guide man and woman home. When the sky is clear, and the sun sets low on the horizon, soldiers return home to their loved ones. If clouds litter the sky like snowflakes on a settled pond, soldiers faced hardships,” Anne told. “But you, my sunset soldier, will always come home, even on the days when clouds are the only thing we see. My baby boy will come home to his mother, and to his family. Home is where you are, my love.”

The room was silent for a long moment before either of them decided to speak. The only sound that could be heard in that room was the sound of their breathing and Harry’s sniffling, the instruments connected to the boy’s body long forgotten.

The sunset will always remind Harry of his mother. Even when it rained, Anne would gather her children on the back porch of their England home in the country, bring out cookies and warm milk, and tell them stories of the sunset soldiers and their tales in battle. He would remember those stories until the day he died, the sad stories, the happy stories. The stories that taught him forgiveness and love and strife. He would always remember.

“You always told the best stories,” Harry sniffled. “I won’t ever be able to tell my kids those stories like you tell them.”

“That’s why you can bring them to Nana and I’ll always be able to tell them,” she whispered. Anne rested her chin on Harry’s shoulder as they watched the last sliver of sunset. “Every heart that has been broken is a heart that’s been loved, my sweet boy.”

“I don’t feel loved, momma,” he replied. Anne scoffed and hugged her son tightly to her body.

“Harry Edward Styles, you are so, so very loved. Your doctors and nurses, they only want the best for you. Your bandmates are here because they love you.”

“I did something stupid,” Harry whimpered, barely above a whisper.

“There’s nothing you can hide from me, love,” she replied with a slight giggle. “When you were put into a band, your management made sure that whatever medical treatment you received, I’d know about it.”

Harry turned in her arms sharply, staring at her regardless of the pain eliciting an intense pain in his abdomen. “What the hell?”

Anne smirked and moved some of his curls away from his face. “Did you think I’d be sending my youngest out into the world without some sort of promise?” she asked as if it were common knowledge. “I know about the detox,” she giggled.

“What the hell?” he asked again. Anne rolled her eyes and sat up straighter in bed.

“Don’t look at me like that, child,” she scolded as she climbed away from his bed. Harry groaned and rolled over, hiding his face in the pillows. “I’ll call everyone and tell them you’re up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before?” Harry wondered. Anne pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. Harry raised his eyebrows in question.

“When have you ever known me to spoil the fun?”

“All the time. You spoil all my fun,” he answered.

“You’re my youngest. I have to spoil some of it.”

 


	3. part one chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter, but it covers a lot, so please keep that in mind. 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright 
> 
> Songs used for Chapter Three  
> Jealous - Labrinth

_Hopkins County Memorial Hospital Dr. Handle: Addiction Counselor and Psychologist’s Office_

 

“It looks like the detox period was the worst of your time here, Harry,” Dr. Handle began, writing on a pad of paper and getting comfortable in her chair.

Harry gave her a blank stare and opened his mouth to reply. “To be completely honest, having to deal with an addiction in front of the people that mean the most to me, while also trying to deal with said addiction, was definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever dealt with. I mean, the broken leg and gallbladder surgery weren’t too fun, but sure, let’s go with that,” Harry hissed, his tone irritated and angry. “I think the best part was the day my mom and Liam had a joint meeting with us. Liam sure made the situation better by bringing our first band photo together. Ripped it to shreds.”

Thinking back to that day, after his mother told him about her knowledge of the detox, he was forced into a meeting with her and Liam. It was grueling, having to talk about his addiction in front of his family. Anne and Liam each had a turn to talk about how his addiction affected them. Anne cried, which was to be expected, while she spoke, never once making eye contact with her son. She brought articles from newspapers and magazines that spoke of Harry’s nights out, drunk and high out of his mind. Liam, however, pulled out the very first photo of One Direction, sitting on the steps of the O2, Harry shoved underneath Louis’s arm as he hugged his middle, Niall on his other side with a hand in Harry’s hair, Liam on the other side of Louis with Zayn’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. It was their first picture, signed, dated, and always used on fan sites.

** Jealous - Labrinth **

_“This used to be my favorite picture,” Liam said sadly. Harry could see his bottom lip trembling._

_“It is your favorite,” Harry whimpered, tears still streaming down his cheeks from hearing his mother talk._

_Liam shook his head and ripped it down the middle, a choked gasp escaping from Harry’s lips. “We could have had that happiness in this picture, Harry,” he spat._

_“Liam, please,” he begged. The boy before him stopped to wipe his face and ripped the picture again._

_“This is for the first time you used,” he showed Harry the pieces of paper. He then took each square and held it up. “For when you used on the tour bus and blamed it on Zayn’s girlfriend” –_ RIPPPP _. “When you brought it to my eighteenth birthday party and got so high someone had to carry you home” –_ RIPPPP _. “When you promised me you’d stop, but tried heroin the very next day” –_ RIPPPP _. “When Louis found you the first time you OD’d and didn’t sleep for three days” –_ RIPPPP _–_

_“For fuck’s sake, Liam, stop!” Harry yelled, dropping to his knees and picking up the shards of paper that lay around him. When he looked up to meet Liam’s gaze, his eyes were stone cold, stoic and strong. He was sure of his decision in that moment, because Harry could finally see what his addiction had done to him. Had done to everyone._

Harry had a week left. A week left until his time in the hospital was done, and he could finally go home. He was ready, honestly. Harry felt comfortable and ready to go back into the real work and spend time with his family and friends. He was ready to be home in his element, and create a new life for himself. Harry felt strong enough to say that he would be able to go home and not feel tempted to use. He was confident.

“Any other traumatic experience you want me to endure while I’m here?” he asked sweetly, sarcasm dripping through his words.

Handle rolled her eyes and wrote down something on her notepad. “I see your attitude hasn’t changed,” she commented as she took a sip of her coffee.

Harry sighed heavily and relented, slouching her shoulders and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry. The past few days have been hard on me with my sister being here. The boys left last week to get back to their lives while I’m stuck here trying to get clean.” Harry cleared his throat after his voice cracked.

“Is it weird being here without them? Your band mates, I mean,” she questioned. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, begging her to elaborate. Thankfully, she got the message. “They’ve been here since before you woke up from the coma. Living in a hospital isn’t ever easy, but if they made it bearable, how does it make you feel now?”

Harry hesitated before he answered, willing the tears to stay at bay. “It’s weird, but it’s also kind of… suffocating when they were here with me,” he explained. “I think I was used to their presence in the room, and it got to be a little stuffy sometimes. It reminds me of sitting in a crowded room for hours. You can’t get away from people no matter where you turn. It felt like that.”

Handle wrote on her notepad as Harry spoke, taking detailed notes. “So, just to make this clear, you loved your friends being there for you, yes?” Harry nodded and she smiled and continued. “But you still feel suffocated if it’s for long periods of time?” Harry nodded again. “Then how the hell did you survive a country-wide tour on a bus?”

A sharp laugh shot out of Harry’s mouth before he even had time to contain it. He covered his mouth with his hand and calmed himself down, a slight giggle shared between the two of them.

“Honestly, there were breaks in between the shows we did,” he began. “We’d do fifteen or so shows and take a week or two long breaks before we got back on the road. Even then, there were hotels where I could get away from the other boys. Louis and I normally shared a room, but sometimes we got singles to have some breathing room.”

“Do you think you’ve grown so accustomed to not having your band mates around you, that now, having them here for so long is getting under your skin?” Handle wondered.

“Maybe, but they’ve always been suffocating,” Harry groaned. Handle lifted her head from staring at her notepad, and set her pen down on her lap.

“Louis wasn’t suffocating, was he?”

Harry set his jaw tensely. “We haven’t talked about Louis very much in here,” he said tersely. “It’s weird for me to talk about it so...” he waved his hands around as he searched for a word to use.

“Openly?” Handle offered. Harry nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “This is a safe space, Harry. What you say in this room will stay between you and me. Now, tell me about Louis.”

So Harry did.

He told Handle about the years _One Direction_ was still together. He told her about the shows they did, where Harry would hang off Louis’s side like a ragdoll until Management forbid it from happening again. He told her about their first kiss on the dance floor of a club, a magical miracle of a kiss, with fireworks popping and bright colors painted from each touch of their lips. He told her about their Management making both boys sign a contract stating they would not interact, talk, or touch on stage whatsoever. He told her how after they signed the contracts, Louis took Harry home and told him, “Harry Styles, I am so in love with you,”, and then made love to him for twelve hours straight, only stopping for bathroom and snack breaks. He told her how Louis was the single greatest thing to have ever happened to him, and he wouldn’t change that for a thing. He told her about the way Louis’s eye shined in the sun and the way his lips looked glossy after they kissed, the bright blue irises of his eyes that changed with seasons and the curves on his hips that were sinful enough to make a nun cry. He told her about the way their love was more than a simple love; no, it was even more than that. It was the kind of love people only wished to have. When she asked him to tell her what his favorite drug was, Harry looked her right in the eye and told her about Louis’s smile.

Before Harry left her office, Handle stopped to ask a reoccurring question within their sessions. It had been the very last question out of her mouth for the past month. He had grown so used to hearing it, that eventually he’d stopped responding altogether. This time, however, he had an answer.  

“Where’s your home, Harry?” she asked.

A smile climbing to Harry’s lips before he spoke, his voice wavering in the most honest answer he had ever used in that room, “Louis.”


	4. part one chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Chapter Four is live! Enjoy everyone! 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial   
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright
> 
> Songs used for Chapter Four   
> Every Moment - Dead Times  
> Day is Gone - Noah Gundersen, The Forest Rangers

Getting out of the hospital had been a grand affair. Someone two floors down sold Harry out on his last day. It was a young patient, probably no older than twenty-five. She said she had been a fan of the band for a while, so everyone should have known about their reunion. It was at that moment Gemma waltzed up behind Harry, smiled at the young woman, and punched her square in the mouth.

Twenty minutes later, after the nurses finished fawning over Harry leaving, he was able to escape their hugs and kisses and soon they were being ushered out the door by heavy security, two of their own members helping, and three police cars on each side of Gemma’s car. Once they were out of the city limits, Gemma took matters in her own hands and posted a picture of her and Harry - they took a single selfie while waiting to leave the parking lot - on her twitter with the caption,

**_little brother is headed home, time for a sibling snuggle and cup of coffee !! Harry and I are thinking about a movie. Send us suggestions!!_ **

The drive back home was quiet, the hum of the radio being the only noise from either Styles sibling. At one point, with his hands shaking and body trembling in anticipation, Harry reached over and gripped Gemma’s hand within his larger one, squeezing tightly. Gemma didn’t let go for the entire ride.

Going home was a daunting process. The reason being, the last time Harry was in his own home, he was high as a kite and debating on driving to his potential death. It was terrifying to say the least. He did his drugs at home in his bedroom. He had snorted more coke off random men’s cocks than anything. If he was being honest, there could possibly be more drugs inside the house. The thought made his stomach churn as they approached the front gate.

Before they drove the car into the garage, Harry tightened his grip on his sister’s hand and dropped his head, staring at his lap in fear of judgement.

“If there’s… anything inside – I mean, I don’t think there will be, but – will you just – Gemma, I just need you to, like, flush –“

“Babe,” Gemma stopped him, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve got you, yeah? Whatever happens when we get inside, we’re going to work through it.” Harry nodded and chanced a look up at his sister, his bottom lip beginning to wobble. Gemma leaned forward and placed her free hand against Harry’s cheek to lift his head.

“I’m s-sorry I’m such a fuck up,” he croaked, a fresh set of tears falling down his cheeks.

Gemma shook her head, her eyes softening and scooting closer to her brother in the car. “Hazza,” she soothed, rubbing her thumb across Harry’s cheekbones, “we are going to get through this. You have been the strongest young man these past few weeks. Probably the strongest I’ve ever seen you. We are going to go inside that house, clean it out, and make it yours again.” Harry nodded weakly and wiped his face.

“The furniture probably smells like weed and there’s bound to be coke everywhere,” he whined. Gemma smiled and tugged him to her chest, letting the boy sob against her shirt.

“We’ll go tomorrow and get new things. Finally get rid of that god awful couch you have,” she teased.

Harry choked out a laugh, “ _Rude_.”

“Fix up your guest bedroom with new bed and curtains. Get that old bed out of your room and put in a bigger one,” she explained while she rubbed between his shoulders and roused his hair with the tips of her fingers.

“Can we get new plants for the living room and patio?” he asked pathetically.

Gemma barked out a laugh and nodded. “We’ll get you the prettiest plants for the prettiest boy,” she said. “We can even get up early in the morning and go to the city. I heard the nurses talking about a new flower shop opening up. We can go scope out competition,” she smiled.

Harry nodded against her embrace and pulled back. “Let’s go inside while I still have the confidence,” he stated quietly. Gemma followed suit and climbed out of the car, following her brother up the driveway to the front door. She pulled his house keys out of her purse and handed them over. She was letting Harry be the one to open the door.

He really loved Gemma.

Opening the door felt like a rush of emotions; happy, sad, anger, love, hate, fear, shame, disgust, envy, anticipation, and anxiety. He felt dejection. He felt grief, as if he was mourning the loss of whom he once was. He felt guilty to be standing in his home with his sister by his side.

As soon as he made it past the threshold, Harry dropped to his knees, dropping his cane and ignoring the dull throb he felt radiating in his leg.

Gemma sat down behind him and pulled his body against her chest, wrapping her legs around his hips. Harry held on to her arm tightly, crying out into the silent house, begging for some kind of reprieve. His lungs felt like they were on fire, burning, burning fire flowers within his chest. Each sob that wrecked through his body felt like organized chaos, only focused in one section at a time.

In his head, feeling the chaotic pain pulsing against his temples, a migraine on the cusp. Behind his eyes and in his throat, bile rising steadily. He felt it in his chest; his heart continuously pounding against his ribcage as anxiety rushed through his bloodstream. He felt it in his arms and legs, ridden with tremors and unable to fight the pull of his muscles, bulging and twitching under his skin.

Harry clung to Gemma as if she was the sun in his thunderstorm. She began to rock the two of them back and forth, as she rubbed the space between his shoulders, folding her fingers through his hair. “You’re alright,” she cooed softly. “We can do this.”

“I’m all snotty,” Harry whimpered later when his cries had subsided to small whimpers and his tears had all but dried. He still sat between Gemma’s embrace, fitting himself right under her arms. “I smell awful after I cry,” he commented, sniffing under his arm.

Gemma hummed an agreement and scrunched up her nose. “You do smell a little ripe, buddy,” she teased.

“Rude,” Harry scowled, but got up anyway when she prompted him to stand.

Before continuing to Harry’s bedroom, Gemma ventured into the kitchen to pick up a trash bag from under the sink. She returned to his side, gripping his hand and pulling him down the hallway, mindful of his cane and boot.

Walking through the house felt like a surreal experience. Gemma stopped every few feet to stop and pick up plastic cups and bottles from the floor. Most of the alcohol had been gone after the party, all that remained was the smell of lingering filth, and stale liquor.

Gemma was a champ about it, cleaning up while they walked. She didn’t even gag, which was warranted, after she mopped up the vomit that probably belonged to Harry’s friend Joey – a burly son of a bitch who always seemed to drink too much – and simply carried along with her duties.

In one of the hallway bathrooms, Harry opened the door and was met with the stale scent of burnt rust. He let his cane fall to the floor as he clutched the door handle with one hand and Gemma’s sleeve with the other. His sister pulled him away from the small room and pushed him against the adjacent wall, forcing him to slide down to the floor.

“Stay here,” she whispered, kneeling down to his level and pushing his curly hair away from his face. He still needed to get it cut. “I’m going to get that shit out of there, and then we’re going to keep going, alright?” Harry nodded stiffly and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “I’ll be right in there, yeah?” he nodded again and watched as she stood up to venture to the bathroom once again.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes before she emerged from the room with a loaded trash bag in her hand. She tied it off and sat it outside the door before pulling an empty bag from her back pocket. She made her way to Harry and offered him her hand, helping him to his feet.

“Thank you,” he whimpered. Gemma smiled softly and pulled the younger boy into a hug, putting the cane back in his hand.

“Ready to face your room?” she asked slowly. Harry took a deep breath and steadied himself with the cane and his boot. When he didn’t respond, Gemma continued, “I can go in first and get – anything, if, er, there is anything in there. If there is, I’ll take the trash bag right outside to the dumpster.”

Harry pulled away from his sister and looked down the hallway towards his bedroom. He took a steadying second to calm his nerves. “I think I want to go in with you,” he murmured quietly. Gemma nodded and stepped out of his way, to begin walking down the hallway together.

Reaching the door to his bedroom, Harry stopped short and tried to swallow the thick, dry lump blocking his airway. Gemma squeezed his hand reassuringly and stepped just a foot closer. Harry looked up at the ceiling and blinked away the new set of tears forming behind his eyes.

Harry took his hand away from Gemma’s grasp, and reached for the doorknob, twisting it slowly and letting the door swing open.

** Every Moment – Dead Times  **

The first thing Harry noticed was the underlying smell of rotten food and liquor. Someone could have emptied vodka bottles in the room, and the smell would still be the same. His bed was left as it was, unmade and in need of a wash. Clothes were thrown around the room haphazardly, shirts and pants in no distinctive fashion. His shoes were in mismatched piles in various corners, a boot with a sneaker in one spot, and a house slipper with a dress shoe in another place.

Gripping his cane tightly, Harry waddled into the room with Gemma behind him. He reached for her hand, silently thanking her when he felt a warm hand within his.

Walking through the room, Gemma grabbed old cups as she’d done previously. While she cleaned the mess, Harry sat down on his bed and dealt with a pile of clothes near his feet. He folded the clothes and put them in piles to be washed later. Gemma began to head to the bathroom once she finished cleaning the contents of the room, but turned to Harry before she opened the door.

“Just throw it away, please?” he whimpered, running his hands through his greasy hair. Gemma nodded and walked over to place a kiss to the top of his head. She said nothing as her kiss lingered, like a protective shadow over Harry. Gemma retreated to the bathroom, closing the white door behind her.

Five minutes later, Gemma emerged with the trash bag filled to the brim. She avoided eye contact with Harry while she walked right out of the bedroom, leaving Harry by himself.

Harry immediately felt tears well up behind his eyes, a tense ache in his jaw making his lip tremble. He laid his cane on the bed beside him as he huddled into the dirty sheets, wrapping them around his body, a sob echoing in the room. His shoulders shook with cries the longer he was alone. Eventually, he began to cry so violently, he did not feel the dip of the bed behind him, Gemma tangling her arms around Harry’s shoulders and pulling him to her.

He turned around and buried his head in her shirt, gripping the fabric tightly and crying louder. Gemma, the saint, held him closer and cooed to him, soothing down his hair and rubbing between the boy’s shoulders.

“You’re alright,” she whispered. “I love you so much, Harry Styles, and you better not ever forget that.” Harry sobbed a little harder at her words but nodded anyway. “What was in that bathroom will never define you again. You are so much more than your addiction.”

Harry sniffled loudly, mumbling, “I’m clean. Sixty days tomorrow.”

Gemma smiled and kissed the top of Harry’s head. “Such a strong man you’ve become. Did you know I used to be jealous of you when you were still in the band?” she asked. Harry froze and glanced up at his sister, wiping his face and shaking his head. Gemma nodded as her eyes misted over. Harry snuggled closer to his sister and pouted.

“Please don’t cry on me, Gen,” he begged, a smile ghosting his lips.

“I was jealous because I grew up thinking I was going to write a book and be the famous one in the family. I thought I’d publish that book I wrote a few years ago, make it into a movie, and support us all,” she explained.

“But I joined _One Direction_ ,” he muttered sadly, feeling guilty of taking his sister’s dream away from her. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Gemma hurdled on.

“You joined the band, and suddenly, my dream got put on the back burner,” she said. “But honestly, that was the best thing that could have happened.”

Harry snapped his neck to look up at her. “How in the world was giving up your dream so I could have mine any better?” he asked incredulously. Gemma giggled softly and swiped under her eyes.

“Because I never needed to be a big award winning author, or be rich and famous. My purpose is this right here, to be here, right here in this moment for you. Working at the magazine helps tremendously when I need some extra funds. I get to work from home and still have my freedom. If I didn’t have that, I couldn’t be here with you. I’m your older sister and I’ll be damned,” she croaked, her voice cracking and her jaw tensing, “if I’m not here with you while you’re dealing with this.”

“I love you,” Harry whispered in Gemma’s shirt. She sniffled and nodded, the two of them sharing a short cry.

“I love you too, Hazza,” Gemma replied, pulling the sheets around their body.

~

 

Later that night, when Gemma left Harry to sleep in his bed after they changed the bed sheets and duvet, she drug the clothes in his room down to the laundry closet to begin washing them. While the clothes washed, she made her way around the house and searched every crevice for any kind of pill, powder, and or little packets of drugs strewn about in the house. She checked the downstairs, each bedroom, and even in the tower of the house where Harry’s books were. In every location she ventured, she didn’t find any lurking temptation.

Reloading the washing machine for the next set of clothes and putting the wet ones in the dryer, Gemma made a list in the kitchen of the groceries they would need to get at the store when they went furniture shopping. After the list, she pulled up rugs, mats, and towels from various areas of the home. She vacuumed the downstairs area and promised herself to do the rest the next day.

At around eleven that night, her phone rang from her pocket. A text message from Harry’s manager and another one from Liam.

**Matt (Harrys Manager):** _Hey Gemma, give me a call when you get this. I want to come see Harry within the next few days. I’ll be in Dallas for a conference this week and want to check in on him._

**Liam (boyband):** _Zayn and i are headed to the house in the morning. weve cleared it with our schedules and managers. expect us in a few hours. give me a ring when you see this_

Gemma rolled her eyes and called Matt first, anticipating the worst about his wanting to meet with Harry.

“If it isn’t my favorite One Direction Sister!” Matt beamed over the phone. Gemma scoffed and pulled out a pen and a notepad from her bag.

“Cut the shit, Matthew,” Gemma spat. “What do you want? Do you want to come see Harry now that he’s home and clean? You didn’t want to come to the hospital and help deal with the crowd of paps and fans waiting for him to leave?”

“Gemma, listen – “

“Harry’s contract is up next year. You will not be one of our choices for resigning,” she hissed.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t up at the hospital when he needed me. You know I’d do anything for that boy,” Matt spoke, his voice seemingly smaller than before.

“That’s a far reach if I’ve ever heard one,” Gemma scoffed. “Look, Harry and I are home, and Liam and Zayn are heading this way in the morning. I’m assuming you want to discuss options for Harry’s future now that he’s gained more attention over the past month than he has in three years.” Gemma took a deep breath and barreled on.

“That’s not why – “

“If you want to talk to him more about that, you can be here tomorrow evening or don’t bother coming at all. Our first hour back at the house ensued two panic attacks and he’s been asleep ever since. You will not bring contracts, nor will you bring your ‘people’. You call my number if you want any information about my little brother. I will not hesitate to exploit your entire management company if you dare try to use my brother like you did in the beginning.” Gemma plopped down on the couch after realizing she’d been pacing, and began writing things down on the notepad.

“Is that a threat, Ms. Styles?” Matt asked, his voice calm.

Gemma wrote down a few key points she’d bring up in the meeting that needed to change and smirked into the phone. “That’s what we call a promise,” she sassed. “Matthew, lovely speaking to you.”

“Always a pleasure, Ms. Styles,” Matt replied, ending the call.

Matthew Banks was one of the best-known solo artist managers, and had been for fifteen years. While he was not near the ages of some of his clients, he was still able to relate. At that moment, Harry was his only client, which made it easier for him to focus most of his attention on the boy. At first, Matthew was an incredible manager, advising Harry in the best directions, and producing the best outcomes. After the band broke up, Harry began to struggling with getting back out into the performing scene. Matthew helped him get back into the studio and work out some of that anger and sadness into new songs. While he didn’t ever get to tour or create a full album, he was still able to release a few songs that his fans went crazy for.

Matthew had been ecstatic to see Harry thriving. When the ideas came about for an album, Matthew introduced the idea of finding Harry a girlfriend for the test season. There would be a trial period to count the amount of fans he’d acquired in terms of tour ticket sales. “A girlfriend,” Matthew explained, “would show your fans that you are still the sweet boy from One Direction.”

Harry stared at the man with an unbelieving look. When he finally gained his bearings, he stood up and gripped the contract, splitting it in two between his hands. “You watched the interview where I came out. You know I’m not attracted to women in that way. If you go through with this, you’re going to be exploiting me for my ‘image’ and my sexuality will mean nothing to those it’s helped. You do this, Matthew, and you lose a client.”

That was the end of that.

Harry did receive a seasonal boyfriend for testing the waters. His name was Blake, and he was a lovely person inside and out. Harry, however, was adamant about remaining friends. They kept it technical, kissing for the cameras, acting in love when they needed to, but installed a wall between the two of them. Blake became one of Harry’s best friends, listening to Harry cry over Louis, and comforting him when he needed to. The boy never put up a fight when Harry would throw tantrums regarding his management team, nor would he judge him. Blake was there to help Harry through whatever life threw at them. In all honesty, Blake was one of the best things to happen to Harry after the breakup.

Gemma rolled her eyes at her phone and finished writing down her points to be discussed before dialing up Liam’s number.

“Jesus Christ, Gemma, how the hell is Harry?” Liam asked in a rush. Gemma chuckled and sat back against the couch cushions.

“He passed around four this afternoon,” she said fondly. “Poor thing is exhausted. I think he’s done more crying the past few months than he has in his entire life.”

“How many panic attacks?” Liam wondered knowingly.

Gemma sighed and rubbed her temple. “One this morning trying to get out of the hospital. Two when we got to the house. One when I finished cleaning out his bedroom,” she replied with finality. “He’s walking a lot better, though.”

“Has Louis tried to get in touch with you?” Liam asked.

“Not yet he hasn’t. I just got off the phone with our favorite manager, actually,” she laughed.

Liam groaned on the other end of the line. “Please tell me Harry isn’t resigning with that idiot.”

“Let’s just say I told him Harry would be his last client for a while, otherwise I’d exploit his entire career.”

It was silent for a moment before Liam exhaled a giggle. “You’re definitely the bad ass Styles,” he mumbled. “Have you been in the band room yet?”

Gemma climbed up off the couch with her brows furrowed. She couldn’t remember Harry ever showing her the band room when they were cleaning. She must have missed it. “I didn’t know he had a band room,” she replied, already climbing the stairs.

“He posted a video on Instagram a few months after the band broke up. He just bought the house and decorated the room with all of our plaques, trophies, CDs, and other memorabilia. You might check in there for drugs,” Liam explained.

Gemma traveled up the stairs, putting Liam on speakerphone as she searched through Harry’s social media feed in search of the video. Once she finally found it, she compared each of the upstairs bedroom doors to the video and narrowed down her search.

“Jesus, Liam, you weren’t kidding,” she huffed as she watched the video over again.

“I thought it was really cool when he first posted it, but now – I don’t know whether or not to be worried about what you’d find in there,” Liam replied. Gemma shook her head and turned the doorknob, opening the door to reveal the carnage.

“Oh my god –“ she gasped. All of the plaques that used to hang on the wall were broken to pieces on the floor, shards of glass scattered around her feet in smaller and larger piles. The trophies that stood on shelves in the video were broken in two, lying in various areas. CDs were shattered, their cases torn to bits. The worst part about the entire room was the pictures. Each one, still hanging high in their frames on the wall, contained one fist sized break, smaller veins spreading out along the glass. Harry must have punched each picture. Gemma felt her jaw ache, tears misting over her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked after a few minutes of silence. Gemma sniffled and choked back a sob as she looked on at the room.

“Liam, how quickly can you guys get here?” she questioned.

“We can leave in the morning before traffic gets bad. Zayn is staying with me so he’d be ready. We could be there whenever he wakes up,” he replied.

A crunch of glass behind Gemma made her jump, spinning around and almost slipping on a shard of glass herself.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Harry asked enraged, his fists balled at his sides, his brunette hair wrapped in curls all over his head.

“Liam, I’ll have to call you back later,” Gemma said calmly. She hung up the phone and stuffed it in her pocket before the boy had a chance to respond, and stepped towards Harry.

Harry moved away from her, cowering, his body shivering in anger. “Don’t touch me right now,” he seethed. “Why did you come in here, Genevieve?” Harry repeated. His chest heaved.

“What happened in here, Hazza?” she questioned. Harry growled and tried to pull her out into the hallway, but failing without complete mobility of his leg. “No!” she barked and yanked her arm away from his grip. “Tell me what happened right now, or so help me, Harry Styles, I’ll make sure mum knows about this.”

Harry walked past her and kicked at the glass on the floor, his slippers crunching with each step. “You don’t know anything about what I was going through – “

** Day Is Gone – Noah Gundersen, The Forest Rangers **

“Because you never fucking asked for help!” she shrieked. Harry spun on his heels to face her, a look of hurt skating across his features. “You never asked me for help! I would have driven here, I would have helped you, I would have been here, you fucking bastard!”

“You think you can help me, Gen?!” he yelled. Harry reached down and picked up a trophy, holding it out to her, “This room stared me in the face for three years, taunting me. Our first award as a band sat here and teased me, because I ruined it!” he hissed, throwing the piece at the wall and watching it crumble to the floor. Gemma winced at the loud sound, but remained to keep calm, save for the tears that slipped down her face.

“I would have come – “

“Would you have judged me for snorting coke off the floor?” he asked, voice raising in volume. “Would you have still loved me if you found me after a bad trip?! Huh? Would you look at me the same way?!” Harry punched a dent in the wall.

“I loved you regardless!” Gemma screamed. “I knew what you were doing, Harry! Mom told me in the hospital, and I’m still here. I love you regardless of what you’ve done in the past,” she tried to offer.

“Fuck that, Gemma!” he yelped. He wiped his face and pulled the ends of his hair. “Is that why you’re still here, because you’re worried about feeling guilty for not spending enough time with me? Is that it?!”

“You fucking died, Harry!” Gemma sobbed. Harry snapped his lips shut, crying softly. “You died on that god damn table and before you got to the hospital, and I’ll be fucking damned if I don’t spend some time with my baby brother! If this isn’t what you want, then I’ll take you to the cemetery right now. Is that what you want? Do you want to show me where you want me to bury you?” Her words hit Harry with the strength of a thousand suns. His heart broke with her tone, slicing through his body. “This entire time,” she said, trying to control her cries, “I’ve been attempting to convince myself that this wasn’t my fault, that everything happens for a reason, and this would have happened at some point.”

“Gems – “

“No!” she spat. “You are going to shut the fuck up while I talk.” Harry looked down at the floor while she barreled on. “I picked up the phone so many times, Hazza. So many times, I picked up the phone and wanted to check in on you. There were articles written about the partying, and the suspected drugs. When you disappeared from the public eye I didn’t know what to think. And then, when Zayn called me that night, I actually thought I’d lost my Hazza. Do you realize what it felt like to lose my baby brother?”

“I never intended on dying that night, you have to know that,” Harry whimpered.

“Even if you had, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Seeing you in the hospital changed my opinion on many different things. You aren’t my baby brother anymore, you’re not my Hazza that got caught in the tree when he was four years old. You aren’t some fragile being that’s going to break. It made me realize how much I’ve taken for granted in terms of our relationship.”

“Is this one of your tricks to make me feel guilty for making you feel like shit?” Harry asked suddenly. Gemma snapped her head in his direction and scoffed, offended.

“You really are a fucking idiot if you think that’s what I’m doing,” she remarked.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m the fucking idiot who got hit by a truck, went through some fucked up form of rehab, had major surgeries, and lost the respect of my family and bandmates. Call me the fucking idiot in this situation, Gen. I dare you,” he snarled. “Everyone has been tiptoeing around me for the past month and I’m fucking sick of it. If you want to say something, go ahead and get it off your chest. Better now, than in ten years.”

Gemma took a deep breath and wiped her face, straightening her hair, and calming her breath.

“Harry Styles, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” she began. “Did Zayn tell you I was ready to drive to the hospital? I was across the country, and I was ready to run if I had to. Did he tell you I was ready to quit my job to spend as much time with you as you needed? Because at this point, it sure sounds like he didn’t.”

“Why would he tell me that?!” Harry yelled. “To make me feel like an even more shit human being?”

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel like shit, you fucking asshole!” she shrieked. “I’m trying to make you see that you’re not the only one who feels guilty in this situation! Think about how mom feels. You didn’t see her when I first got to the hospital. You didn’t see the way she looked at you, waiting for your heart to stop. You didn’t see yourself hooked up to wires and cables and a god damn breathing machine!”

Harry backed up against the wall and slid down, careful not sit on any sharper shards of glass. “I’m sorry,” he whined, pushing a croaking sob to the back of his throat. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up for everyone.”

Gemma took a deep breath and tried to keep a level head. Her heart softened at Harry’s expression, small and hurt. “Hazza,” Gemma said gently, crouching in front of him and framing his face with her hands. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Liam and Zayn are putting their shit on hold for me. For what? Some dumb ass like me getting out of a rehab situation. Niall has a wife and a kid, but he’s still expecting to make it here, leaving his family behind. Louis won’t even look at me. The love of my fucking life won’t speak to me. Tell me, Gemma, tell me in one single way I haven’t ruined everything,” he cried. Gemma sat down on her haunches and rested her hands against Harry’s legs.

“I almost lost you,” she whimpered. “You’ve not ruined my life, Harry,” Gemma smiled and wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

“It sure does feel like everyone’s upset because of me,” he replied.

“No one is upset because of you. If you only knew how thankful we all are that you’re alright,” Gemma soothed. She held him while he cried. “You sweet boy, we aren’t upset with you. We are so incredibly happy that you’re alright. That’s all we want, love. We just want you to live.”

_We want you to live._

Silence formed a protective boundary between the siblings. Gemma moved to wrap herself around her brother, pulling him close to her. Harry cried for an hour or two in the room before his body refused to shed any more tears. Afterward, when their cries had diminished into quiet sniffles, Gemma picked him up and half carried him back to his bedroom. She tucked him under the sheets, fluffing his pillow and getting him comfortable. Once he was comfortable and snuggled in, Gemma walked back to the kitchen and pulled the entire box of trash bags out from the cabinet, along with a broom and dustpan. She stopped by the guest bedroom she had claimed and picked up a pair of tennis shoes.

In the band room, she began to sweep the bigger pieces of glass, piling it all up in one corner of the room. Once it was clean enough that she didn’t worry about it being stuck in her shoes, she brushed the glass into one bag followed by another, and stacked them outside in the hallway. The trophies that were broken were bagged together to be put back together at another time. CDs and photo frames were ruined, so Gemma bagged them all together. The only things left lying on the floor were photographs. Gemma picked them up one by one, keeping them together so Harry could go through them when he felt better.

When Gemma was finished, the room looked almost spotless, bar the hair thin sized glass particles that still dusted the floor. She made a mental note to vacuum the room in the morning before the boys got to the house.

After taking the trash out to the bins outside, Gemma picked up downstairs and turned off the lights, turned off the lights upstairs, and finally retired to her bedroom to shower and get some rest. She was worried about her brother, yes, but tomorrow was a new day, with promises of old friends and new beginnings. With that in mind, she could let the rhythmic tick of the fan in her room lull her to sleep.

 


	5. part one chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another one for you beautiful people. I promise, I'm working as quickly as I can to get this updated and finished for you guys. All my love! 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright
> 
> Songs used for Chapter Five  
> This is How We Do It - Montell Jordan  
> I Predict A Riot - Kaiser Chiefs'  
> Happy Together - Gerard Way, Ray Toro  
> Baby - Hippo Campus  
> Heal - Tom Odell  
> Legendary - Welshly Arms

** This Is How We Do It – Montell Jordan  **

Music blasted through the speakers of Harry’s home, pounding bass in the floors and walls. Gemma danced around the living room with a duster in her hand, Harry standing on top of his coffee table with the television remote as a microphone. The couch and chairs were shoved against the wall with plastic wrap over them as they waited for the moving company to show up with a van.

That morning, Harry woke up and decided to get all the furniture out of his house. He also made the decision to have a good attitude for the day, seeing as though he felt mentally drained from the crying he had been doing since he’d arrived at the hospital. He connected all of the speakers in the house to his phone after waking Gemma, and ordered in a breakfast plate for the two of them.

Before he made the decision to have a good day, he found an old journal in his bedside table. The contents of the journal were that of old song lyrics, sketches he’d drawn of band posters, and letters he’d written to various people in his life. Reading over the pages, he knew that feeling sorry for himself wasn’t an option. Thus, he stuffed the journal back in the drawer and clambered out into the hallway with his mind on a mission.

“Our hands are in the air!” Harry sang, laughing loudly. Gemma thrust her hands up into the air and waved them around.

“And we wave ‘em like we just don’t care!” she sang back just as loudly. Harry stepped down to the floor as the song ended, careful of his boot, and a new song started through the house. He wrapped his arms around his sister and swayed happily, as _Kaiser Chiefs’_ song began.

** I Predict A Riot – Kaiser Chiefs’ **

“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed with a wide smile. “I fucking love this song!”

The siblings danced through the living room, singing along to the lyrics loudly “La la la la la la!” repeatedly. As they dusted various parts of the room, Gemma hitting the obvious parts, and Harry rearranging things as he went, they did not hear the front door open and close, two specific boys walking through the foyer with their bags clanking against the tiled floor.

Harry spun around during a dance move, twirling Gemma around as she dusted the television mantle. When he turned, he caught a glimpse of Zayn and Liam standing in the doorway with amused looks on both of their faces.

With a wide grin on his face, he approached each boy, grabbing their hands and pulling them into the living room, dancing wildly. “Gemma!” he yelled to get his sister’s attention. She glanced behind her and waved at the boys with her duster.

“Boys, you’re here!” she shrieked and jumped on top of the coffee table. She used the duster as her microphone, laughing at the new arrivals’ expressions.

“Can someone explain to us why everyone’s in such a good mood?” Zayn questioned while dancing around Liam who stood still despite Harry’s efforts.

“We’ve decided to have a good day,” she yelled, “so we’re having a good fucking day.” She pointed directly at Liam and narrowed her eyes, causing Harry to giggle. “Liam Payne, if you aren’t dancing by the time I turn back around, I’m going to hang your balls on the mantle!”

Harry barked a laugh.

Zayn lifted Harry up off the ground in a _Dirty Dancing_ move.

Liam paled.

Liam danced.

~

 

Harry rounded the corner of the flower shop with two different flowerpots in his arms. He strolled through the shop looking for his sister and band mates, hoping to catch them before they went to grab the car. As he glanced down an aisle with soil and empty potting, he spotted Zayn throwing two bags over his shoulder. Walking down the aisle, Harry nodded to Zayn and lifted an eyebrow.

“Have you seen the other two?” he asked. Zayn adjusted the two bags and shook his head.

“I saw Liam near the cactus plants, and Gemma said she was going to bring the car around to get the bigger plants,” he explained. Harry nodded along and turned back towards the register with Zayn trailing behind him. “Still don’t understand why we’re buying flowers in the dead of winter.” Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes.

After their dance party, Harry helped the boys get settled in their rooms for the time being. They didn’t disclose how long they were going to be staying with him, only that they were taking a break for a few weeks to spend with Harry. Liam explained that Niall would join them in a few days, after sorting things out with his family and his management, seeing as he had a tour beginning within the next few months, and promo for the tour needed to be put on hold. It wasn’t the ideal situation for Niall, and Harry had tried to talk him out of it, but Niall insisted.

Once everyone was settled, and after Harry and Gemma showered and readied themselves for the day, the four of them set out to the city to do some shopping. Harry had called the moving company and gave them a time to meet them back at the house, instructing them to bring the biggest moving van they could because they would be picking up all the old furniture in the house. Harry, of course, promised to triple their pay for the work they did.

The first stop was a furniture store. It was a simple idea: pick out living room, dining room, and bedroom pieces. What the group did not account for was the overwhelming need for Harry to match things. Not only that, but he wanted a certain theme for his new appliances, and felt his decisions were justified.

“They’re not just pieces of furniture,” he hissed at Gemma who was trying to hurry their trip into the store. “I want things to match and look nice for guests.”

“You won’t be having guests if I kill you before we even leave this place,” Gemma replied and sat down on a nearby couch.

Thankfully, Liam and Zayn diffused the situation by splitting up, Liam taking Gemma to look at dining room pieces, and Zayn taking Harry to look for living room and bedroom furniture.

By the end of the four hours they’d spent torturing the poor store clerk, Harry and Gemma worked together to buy enough things to fill each of the rooms downstairs, and a few of the guest bedrooms, along with Harry’s room, complete with a new bedframe, mattress, pillows, and comforter/duvet set. Once everything was set to go, Liam set up a delivery time to have it brought to Harry’s home.

After that excursion, Harry decided to check out the flower shops in town, much to the rest of the groups’ protests.

Harry and Zayn made it to the register, finding Liam already putting the plants he’d accumulated on the table. He turned and Harry nodded to him, hurrying to put his own pots and plants on the line, followed by Zayn’s bags of soil.

“How are you boys doing this lovely afternoon?” the clerk asked with a bright smile. Harry gave her a mirrored grin and pulled out his wallet, getting ready to pay the amount.

“I think we’re all doing quite well,” he answered. “How are you, love? Not too busy today, I hope,” Harry added cheekily. Behind him, he heard Zayn snort.

The young woman blushed under the attention and giggled softly, shaking her head. “It’s not too bad anymore,” she said.

“Oh, Christ,” Zayn grumbled. “Where did Gems run off to?” he asked. Harry tore his attention away from the girl and glanced at his friends.

Liam shrugged. “The last time I saw her, she said she was going to grab the car so we could load up after we finished paying. But that was ten minutes ago, and I don’t see the car in the parking lot anymore,” he replied, laughing to himself.

“Sneaky little shit,” Harry said snuffling a laugh. “She probably went to grab cigarettes.”

“Or food,” Liam supplied. Harry barked a laugh and paid for the plants he’d bought, and helped his friends load them onto a trolley.

** Happy Together – Gerard Way, Ray Toro **

About that time, Gemma peeled into the parking lot once more, driving across the curb, a cigarette hanging between her teeth. Harry giggled at her antics and wheeled the trolley out to meet her.

“Come on, losers, took you long enough,” she smirked and puffed out the smoke.

“You left us!” Liam argued, grunting as he lifted the bags of soil into the boot of the car. “It’s freezing out here, and you left us to fend for ourselves,” he added with a touch of sarcasm. 

Gemma chuckled and put the car in park. “Saw a few paps headed this way, so if you boys don’t want to get caught, you may want to hurry it up,” she explained.

“Is that why you pulled into the parking lot like a bat out of hell?” Zayn snarked. Gemma glared at him and gave him the finger.

After Liam and Zayn loaded the car, Harry returned the trolley back inside and climbed into the passenger seat of the car, buckling his seat belt. As soon as the group left the flower shop, two black vans pulled in, paps flooding the shop and begging for pictures. Harry took a deep breath and adjusted the straps on his boot to let his leg breathe, accepting the offered cigarette from Gen.

“Do you think they’re going to be at the house?” Harry asked out loud. He knew the answer, and he knew it didn’t need to be said out loud. When the car remained silent, aside from the soft music that played in the background, Harry took a long drag from his cigarette and glanced out at the scenery that passed along the road as they drove.

Back at the house, it was late into the afternoon before the group finished setting up the home, putting furniture together and organizing the plants. Once it was all finished, Harry tipped the men who helped, and called in food for the group to gorge themselves with after a long day.

Later that evening, Harry sat down on the new black couch in the living room after his shower, and a much needed nap, feeling refreshed and clean. Gemma sat in the loveseat across from him typing away on her computer while she listened to music through her headphones. Zayn and Liam were still getting ready for bed, showering in their rooms and changing out of the day’s clothing. While he waited for them, Harry stood up and plucked a blanket from the chest beside the couch, draping the fuzzy cloth over his legs and pulling it up to his chin. He stretched out, snuggling into the cushions.

The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, even after everyone threw away the trash. Harry had called into a local pizza place for their dinner, claiming they had the best pizza and pasta in the county. After their dinner, the group cleaned up the mess and retired to their own rooms to shower and ready themselves for bed.

Later, Zayn made his way down the staircase carrying a blanket of his own. Harry smiled at him as he sat right on top of his legs, stretching out over him and wrapping his slender arms around the taller boy. “Really?” Harry harrumphed, pretending to be upset. Zayn simply smirked at him and messily kissed his cheek.

** Baby – Hippo Campus (Spotify Singles) **

“If you boys don’t mind,” Gemma piped up from where she sat, “I need to get some work done, and I’d rather not watch you two –“

“Shit, if you wanted some love, Gen, all you had to do was ask,” Zayn smirked. “Niall should be here in a few hours, I’m sure he would be up for a cuddle or two.”

Harry sat straight up and looked at his sister with a menacing pout. Gemma rolled her eyes when she glanced at Harry, taking off her headphones and putting her computer on the coffee table.

“Don’t look at me like that, Harry James,” she said pointing an accusing finger in his direction. “You’re not very scary.”

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Harry asked, still grimacing at the thought of his sister and his best mate.

Zayn giggled and shuffled away from Harry. “Gemma told me about a party one night –“

“Zayn, if you say one more word about that night, so help me god,” Gemma snapped.

“What the hell did you do to the poor woman?” Liam asked suddenly from the staircase, walking into the living room with his phone in his hand.

Gemma put her laptop away and looked at Liam for help. “Seeing as you’re the oldest one of One Direction right now, I’m going to need you to contain your boys,” she hissed. Liam groaned aloud and sat on Harry’s left, pulling his blanket to cover his legs.

“I’d very much like to keep my body intact, so whatever it is that you did to piss her off,” Liam said, trying to put on his best brave face, “cut it out.”

“Cut it out,” Gen mocked as she gathered up her things. “ _Cut it out_ , he says.”

Harry stood from the couch and shook his hair out, ruffling it and pushing it away from his face. “Niall was always the mediator. When does he get here?” he asked Liam. He stuttered for a moment, scrolling through his phone.

“Said he’d be here by midnight,” Liam replied, reading off a message.

“How did he manage to get away from the wife?” Zayn wondered. Liam shrugged and shook his head.

“Ask him when he gets here,” Harry answered. “I’m making coffee; does anyone want a cup?” The group rattled off their orders and left Harry to fix their drinks in the kitchen.

While he was digging in the fridge to retrieve the milk and creamer, Gemma came in behind him and plucked a water bottle from the contents. She then moved to sit on one of the adjacent counters, staying out of Harry’s way.

“You know nothing happened with Niall, right?” Gemma spoke suddenly. Harry nearly dropped the creamer to the ground.

Harry steadied his hands on the counter, placing both palms flat on the work space. He took a deep breath and looked to his sister. “It wouldn’t have mattered if something did happen, Gem. You know I don’t care,” he said carefully. Gemma took a sip of her water and shrugged. “I can’t exactly tell you who you can and cannot… date.”

Gemma snorted and shook her head. “Dating, seeing each other, fooling around –“

“Ahhhh! I definitely do not need to know about my sister _fooling around_ with anyone,” he spat, readying the three coffee cups. Gemma snickered and took one of the cups, helping Harry carry them into the living room.

“Nothing happened with Niall, I promise,” she said softly as they reentered the room to find Liam and Zayn trying to find something to watch on the television. He handed the cups off to the boys and sat in his original spot between the two of them. Gen slipped Harry his cup and turned on her heels, picking up her laptop and other items she had brought downstairs. “I’m heading to bed. Please don’t wake me up when the other one gets here,” she smiled. Before leaving, Gem walked over to Harry and kissed the top of his head sweetly, retreating back up the stairs and to her room.

“We still have an hour or two before the blonde one gets here,” Liam yawned. “I say we get a movie going to keep us awake.”

“If I have to watch one more Star Wars film, I’m going to throw something,” Zayn hissed from his spot in the corner of the couch. He stood up and stretched, placing his cup on the coffee table in front of them.

Harry smirked and took a sip, propping his legs up on the table. “If I want to look at young Mark Hamill and Harrison Ford, I will,” he sassed.

They finally decided on watching an old action movie for the time being while they waited for Niall to arrive. It took him a bit longer than the duration of the movie to reach Harry’s house, but he did nonetheless.

A knock at the door sent Harry wobbling over to let the boy into the home.

“My boy!” Niall greeted him as he waltzed through, dropping his bags to the ground and wrapping Harry in a tight hug. “You look so good,” he added when he pulled away, giving the boy a once over. “Where are the other minions?” Niall questioned.

Harry thumbed over his shoulder and brought his friend into another hug, wrapping his arms around Niall’s neck. “Living room,” Harry replied. He let go of the boy and went for his bags instead, but Niall knocked the boy’s hands away from them and shooed him.

“I can take care of my bags, you mother hen,” he laughed and pulled Harry into the living room where Liam and Zayn were already standing and ready to give hugs.

“About damn time,” Liam said with a smile.

“Well, I had to tell the family something other than, ‘I’m going to spend time with my band mates’, again.”

Harry sat down on the couch and fixed his blanket. “What did you tell her, by the way?” he asked.

Niall ruffled Zayn’s hair once he pulled out of his embrace and plopped down on the floor, reaching for his phone. “Had to tell her the truth, didn’t I?”

Zayn coughed uncomfortably; Liam stood up quickly and went to turn off the television. Niall glanced at everyone and rolled his eyes. “No one told him?”

Harry lifted his eyebrows in question, but none of the boys said anything. “Told me what?”

Liam was the first to speak, sitting next to the boy again with his legs crossed. “We wanted to wait until Niall got here before we brought it up,” he began to explain. “Which, by the way, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to at all.”

“What are we supposedly doing?” Harry questioned, his tone dripping with frustration. He knew this was probably going to happen, thinking back to the conversation Liam had with Louis while Harry was still in the hospital. He never got around to asking because he thought they would bring it up. Now, facing it head on, Harry was beginning to worry. Liam looked over at Zayn but remained quiet.

Niall groaned loudly and threw his head back, putting his phone on the ground and sitting up straight to face Harry. “Liam spoke to Louis while you were still in the hospital,” he said slowly, carefully. “If you want to go and fix whatever happened between the two of you that night, we’re going to leave in the morning.” Zayn raised his hand and tried to interrupt.

“Niall – “

“Shut the fuck up, Zayn,” Niall spat, glaring daggers at him. “You’ve had him here and never worked up the balls to say anything.” Turning back to Harry, Niall’s eyes softened. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Louis knows we’re coming, and he promised to be on his best behavior. We can even leave now if you want to. But if this isn’t something you want to do, then we won’t push you.”

There was a sudden silence surrounding the group. Harry felt his hands shake where they gripped the blanket over his body like a vice. His heart thumped against his ribcage so loudly he could feel each beat of his heart in his ear, against the flesh of his toes, in his stomach. A rush to his head sent him gasping for air, his hand flying out to grab whatever was closest.

“Shit, Harry what do you need?” a distant voice asked.

Niall took his hand tightly and held it close to his own body. He could feel the other boys around him, moving to get him water, taking the blanket off his body. Harry’s body shook uncontrollably with each passing second. His chest was tight, bordering on the line of painful, and his hands began to numb, sending prickly needles up his arm and into his shoulders. Harry’s throat tightened around nothing but air as he gulped in whatever oxygen he could manage. As his eyes misted over with tears, he reached out towards the staircase and pointed a shaking finger at his chest, then making a gesture with his hand that sent Liam sprinting up the stairs.

It could have been five minutes or five weeks before Harry came to. His eyes cleared with each breath he took. His hand tried to squeeze around the small plastic item he held within his palm, inhaling one more gulp of the antibiotic.

“I haven’t seen you have an asthma attack this bad since we were kids,” Niall mumbled as he carded his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry shook his head and dropped the inhaler on the couch beside him, Liam taking it and setting it on the coffee table.

Harry accepted the glass of water Zayn offered him and took a tentative sip, the cool water coating his throat. He sniffled and wiped away at his eyes. “I want to do it,” he said.

Niall’s hands stopped and Liam’s eyes widened when the comment set in. The group was quiet for a moment before Zayn broke the silence.

“We aren’t going,” he commanded with a tone of finality. Harry looked up at him and whined, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

“We are,” Harry replied gravely.

Zayn kneeled in front of him. “You had a panic attack and then an asthma attack because of the panic attack, Harry. We aren’t going if this is going to happen.”

Niall snorted. “Don’t try and act like his father.”

“I’m not acting like his father, dick head,” Zayn snapped.

Liam rolled his eyes and shuffled closer to Harry. “I don’t want him having panic or asthma attacks either but ultimately, it’s his decision whether we go or not,” he tried softly.

“This is exactly why I told Liam not to say anything until you got here,” Zayn groaned. “I knew this was going to happen.”

“You don’t know me just because you were with me in the hospital,” Harry barked, sitting up straight and putting his glass down on the table. “Yeah, you watched me get clean, and you came when no one else did. For that, I am grateful. But you don’t get to sit here and tell me what I’m going to do like you’ve been around the past three years!”

“So you want to bring this up?” Zayn asked incredulously, his tone dripping with frustration. “You want to bring up these three years like we’ve just been twiddling our thumbs and waiting for the band to get back together, yeah?”

Harry growled and shrugged. “Yeah, let’s go ahead and air it all out since we’ll be traveling together,” he hissed. “Let me have it, Zayn. Yell at me for breaking up the band and doing so many drugs I couldn’t see straight. Yell at me for being a junkie rather than taking care of my music, my family, and my fucking band!”

Zayn stood up and paced in the living room. Harry watched as his chest heaved. Finally, he turned back around at the boy with his eyes blazing, white anger flashing back at Harry.

“You were selfish,” he seethed quietly, his voice wavering. “I bet you don’t remember the first night you overdosed, and Louis was the one who found you. I’m sure everyone else in this room remembers it, though.”

“Zayn, stop it before you say something you’re going to regret,” Liam warned, lips held in a tight line.

Zayn snapped his gaze at Liam and snarled. “You don’t get to say anything, Liam.” He turned his head back towards Harry. “The first time you overdosed, we had to cancel four shows in four cities. Louis spent the night in the hospital with you and had nightmares after you got out. Did you ever hear him having nightmares, Harry?” he asked before dropping his head and laughing to himself. “No, you wouldn’t remember because you were doped up on enough sleeping aids, you wouldn’t have woken if I had screamed at you. You did this to _yourself_ , Harry. Everything that has happened so far, you did to yourself. The drugs, the alcohol, the coming out story that almost ruined Louis’s career. Do you realize what you did to this band? Did you even want to wake up in that hospital?”

** Heal – Tom Odell **

“Shut up, man,” Liam tried, reaching out for Zayn’s arm. The boy yanked it away roughly and seethed.

Zayn pulled at his own hair, his hands shaking and his chest heaving. “You took away my fucking family. This band was the only thing I had when I moved out. My mum and brothers only saw me when we were on breaks. One Direction was my only family, and you took that away from me!” he screamed. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes. “ _You_ did this, you twat!”

A whimpered sounded from Niall’s mouth. Harry shook his head and walked over to a cabinet beside the television. He had hidden little things from the band in the cabinet before the boys got there, but he knew there was a certain item that would shut Zayn up. When he found what he was looking for, he gripped it and pulled it out, tossing it at Zayn with a sullen expression.

“For three years I punished myself for ruining everything,” he said quietly. “Three years and enough drugs and alcohol to numb some of the pain. When you were in Dallas for your first solo tour, I was sitting in the very back. When Niall went to London, I flew across the pond to watch him. Liam played his first sold out show in Madison Square Garden and I sat in the nosebleeds just so I could watch you make it.” Harry took a breath and pushed his hair away from his face. “Couldn’t ever make it into one of Louis’s shows, but it’s not like I would have been wanted there anyway,” he laughed deprecatingly. “If you really want to know how I felt, read through that and come find me after you’re finished acting like a god. I’m packing,” Harry instructed. Zayn turned the small lyric journal over in his hand before opening it and sighing to himself.

“Harry, wait,” Niall said, standing up.

Harry turned and put his hand up to stop him. “Read it. If you want to keep punishing me for what I’ve done, I’ll be in my room.”

With that, he turned and walked up the stairs and into his bedroom, Liam’s curses heard as he trudged through the house.

It didn’t take twenty minutes before Niall burst through Harry’s bedroom door, walking to his bed and jumping on him, tears rolling down his face as he squeezed his arms around the younger boy. “You idiot boy,” he cried, Liam not far behind him.

Harry cuddled the boy back, shoving his head into Niall’s shirt. His eyes misted over with tears as Niall spoke into his hair.

“I didn’t want to die,” he sobbed, hiccuping as he did so. Niall shushed him and held him closer.

“We know that,” Liam said suddenly, climbing in behind Harry and holding him. He was boxed in with love from his band, his brothers. “We didn’t want you to die.”

Niall shook his head and held Harry’s face between his hands. “I would have answered the phone,” he whimpered. “I would have answered a thousand times had I known.”

“Zayn,” Harry said on a choked off cry.

Liam and Niall held the boy while they all cried, clutching the other as time passed. When Zayn finally came into the bedroom, he was holding the journal with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Harry caught a glimpse of him from the corner of his eye and lifted his head. Zayn opened his mouth to speak but tears fell before he got a change.

Harry held his hand out with a small smile. “’M so so –“

Zayn dropped everything in his hands and bolted for the bed, jumping on top of Harry and holding him tightly, forcing the other two to move out of the way and make room for him. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered with his head in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry shook his head.

“I never wanted to die,” he said softly.

“I never wanted you to die either,” Zayn replied.

That night, they decided to pack in the morning, all four of them in a blanket filled puppy pile in Harry’s bed. Needless to say, it was the best sleep any of them had gotten since the hospital.

~

In the morning, Gemma came bounding through Harry’s door, yelling about how she couldn’t find the other boys. Her rant silenced when she found the four of them in bed still, cuddled together on top of each other. Harry and Niall were woken up by Gemma’s loud voice, groaning and rolling over.

“I’m assuming you got in alright, Nialler?” she smiled brightly. The boy rubbed his eyes and climbed out of bed with a grunt, wrapping his arms around Gen.

“Made it in just fine,” he replied once he pulled away. Gemma gave him a quick peck on the cheek and cast her eyes back to her brother.

“Did you all sleep in here, then?” she wondered.

“We were sleeping,” Harry replied, pushing his curls away from his face and sitting up in his bed.

“We’re going to leave in a few hours,” Niall informed her quietly.

Gemma gave Niall a shocked look. “Louis?” Niall nodded. “I have to tell our mom so she knows,” she replied.

Harry pulled himself out of bed and grabbed his shirt from last night that was still on the floor. “Can you call her? I don’t really want to get an ear full this early in the morning,” he questioned. He walked over to his closet and pulled out a light purple jumper and layered it on top of his shirt.

“Could you put on some pants, please?” Gemma grumbled. “Your ass is not something I like seeing when I haven’t had any coffee.”

Harry turned and gave his sister a menacing (not very menacing) look, before retrieving a pair of jeans from the bottom rack of his closet, shucking them on and making his way back to his bed. He sat down and slid his boot on his foot, strapping it on tightly. “Come on, boys,” he yelled loudly at Liam and Zayn who were cuddled together under the sheets. When they didn’t budge, Harry reached over and shoved at them.

Niall rolled his eyes and walked over to where the two boys slept. “Get up, fuckers!” he yelled, pulling both boys onto the floor at once, earning disgruntled moans of pain and irritation.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Zayn hissed after he sat up and rubbed a sore spot on his head. “Hang his blonde hair on the mantle….. tell the wife and kids it was an accident.”

“Awe,” Niall cooed as he helped Zayn up off the floor, pulling the boy in close and kissing the top of his head. “I love you too, man.”

** Legendary – Welshly Arms **

After the group made their way downstairs and cooked a healthy breakfast, made by Harry, they all made their way to where their suitcases found home. While Harry was finishing packing his bag in his room, the other boys packed up Niall’s SUV.

It was already discussed with their security team before Harry knew about the plan. Niall and Liam were sneaky with their carrying out the actual plan. He knew as far as London, but no one had informed him of where they’d be ending up.

With bags packed with enough clothing to last him a while, all of his toiletries, and his phone and charger, Harry carried all of his things downstairs, where Liam met him halfway and helped carry everything to the waiting vehicle.

Harry stopped and checked the home once more to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. Gemma waited by the front door with a small bag in her hands. He began shutting off the lights as he went through the rooms, finally ending up in front of his sister.

“I put all your meds in here. Pain, daily, and antibiotics,” she explained, handing over the bag. “Your inhaler is in there too, with an epi pen just in case.”

Harry smiled warmly at his sister and pulled her into a tight hug. “I’ll be fine,” he whispered. “Niall will make sure I check in every city or so.”

Gemma kissed his cheek and pushed him slightly. “Be careful. Go get your boy.” Harry gave her a stern glare, which then turned into a small smile, his own excitement working it’s way onto his face. “I’ll watch the house. Be careful, Harry.”

Harry saluted his sister and turned, heading for the car and climbing in the backseat. He pulled out his phone and checked the time before taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Alright, ya bastards,” Niall said happily, putting the car in drive. “If anyone in the vehicle needs to stop for any reason at all, hold it,” he instructed. His eyes met Harry’s, and he retraced his words. “Except for Harry. If you have to pee or vomit or both, let me know and I’ll pull over.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, you twat,” Harry replied with a smirk. Niall laughed and pulled out of the driveway, heading for god knows where in England.

Harry checked his phone again and relaxed into the seat, willing his pounding heart to calm down.

 


	6. part one chapter six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow omg chapter 6 already!   
> Thank you everyone for being so patient with me. Have another chapter please c: As always, thank you to Megan for beta'ing and reading everything I have to offer her. 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright  
> Tumblr @alwaysandforeverlou
> 
>  
> 
> Song Used in Chapter 6  
> Easily - Bruno Major
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING : THERE IS HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE IN THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE KEEP THAT IN MIND.

When Harry roused some hours later, the group was driving down the motorway with a security guard trailing them closely. Music hummed softly in the car, providing a soft ambiance. Harry pulled out his phone and checked the time, before sending a quick text to Gemma and his mother, letting them know where he was. In the front seat, Liam drove, while Niall sat in the passenger seat and played on his phone. Zayn slept beside him in the back seat with a soft snore.

He snuggled down into his seat and adjusted his jumper, pulling it up to cover his neck. Liam cleared his throat softly and glanced at Niall.

“Do you really think this is a good idea for Haz?” Liam asked quietly, probably thinking Harry was still asleep.

Harry closed his eyes and slowed his breathing in case they looked in the backseat.

“Are you scared of Louis? This long, and you’re still terrified of that little pixie?” Niall sassed. Liam scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“I’m not fucking scared of him, Niall,” he replied. “I’m scared for Harry’s sake.”

“Louis won’t hurt him,” Niall said firmly. “You saw him at the press conference. You saw how wrecked he was. He still loves his boy, and the quicker everyone realizes this, the easier it will be.”

“You can’t know for sure though,” Liam pressed.

Niall groaned. “Stop playing devil’s advocate, Liam, it doesn’t suit you. Louis is stubborn, but so is Harry. When they have something in their head, it’s hard to change that opinion. Just trust me on this. Once they get their heads out of their twats, they’ll finally get better.”

Liam was silent for a moment. “Do you miss it? The band, I mean.”

“Sometimes, yes. I miss you fuckers more than anything. Everything happens for a reason, so I think even if we’d stayed together, this would have happened. I miss you guys, and I miss making music with the band,” Niall explained. “I miss the bond we all shared.”  

Liam didn’t reply to Niall again, instead sighing heavily and turning the music up just slightly.  

Harry missed the bond he shared with each boy. Especially with Louis.

Louis was the love of Harry’s life. The absolute love of his life.

Even though Louis was the oldest member of the band, he always acted much younger. Harry, the youngest, kept his eye on him at all times. When they’d finish a show, and Louis would be exhausted from running around on stage, Harry would make sure he ate something before he fell asleep. When Louis caught a bad case of tonsillitis, Harry was there to make sure he drank fluids and took his tablets. Harry watched out for Louis with a carnal instinct. He didn’t know why he did it when they first went on tour. Even in the X Factor house, he slept above Louis in their bunk beds, making sure he was healthy and happy. Louis was someone Harry felt like he had to protect, no matter the cost.

Harry fell in love with Louis the way you fall in love with a song or a painting. You hear it once, and think, ‘Right, I kind of enjoy this’. Then after the second time being played, you notice the lyrics, the words that drip from the track. You can feel the hidden meanings behind every line. You become obsessed with the song, slowly but surely. It’s like, that song is the soundtrack of your entire life. And Louis was for Harry.

To be honest, Harry missed many things too. He missed being with the band all day, every day. He missed spending time with everyone on the tour bus when they would go across the country. He missed the friendship they all shared, the friendship that they told everyone would ‘last a lifetime’. Harry also missed touring. He loved the way the stadium used to erupt with screams when they would step on stage. He loved all the fans used to bring to the shows.

His favorite sign was one of a teenage boy who came out to his parents at their concert. During one of their songs, the boy pulled out the sign for the world to see. Harry called on him, invited him on stage and read the sign aloud. The boy was elated, one for meeting the boys, two for coming out at the concert. After the show, Harry went to find the boy and his family. His parents were happy, loving the way his son was happy. Harry promised the boy that he would get in touch with their manager to get him meet and greet tickets once they came back out. The boy cried again.

Harry also missed making a difference in people’s lives. He relished in every moment that he could, knowing he could change them for the better. Many fans told them they saved their lives. One girl revealed her wrists to Harry. They were covered in scars, obvious self-harm scars. She cried when Harry hugged her. She felt like she was in such a dark place in her life, that she didn’t even want to continue living. The girl told Harry that their songs and happy attitude gave her hope that one day it would get better. Harry wrote her a note on a sheet of paper, which she later got tattooed on her wrist. Harry retweeted the picture and posted it on his own social media. 

He missed it. He missed everything about being in a boyband. Harry missed every bit of it, and he hated that he couldn’t have that again.

Not being able to put up with his own thoughts, Harry pretended to wake up and offered to drive. Liam happily obliged, pulling over so they could switch out. Harry drove until he reached another city, pulling into a motel after letting the security know, and got two rooms for the four of them. 

Once everyone was settled in their rooms, Harry jumped in the shower. He washed away the day’s grime and readied himself for bed, letting Liam have the next shower. After texting Gemma and Anne once more to let them know they were stopped, Harry snuggled into his bedsheets and willed himself to fall asleep.

Sleep came easily.

 

~

 

_5:11 a.m. in a hotel room in a city near Brighton_

 

 

Harry let his eyes flutter open when he heard Liam talking to someone on the phone. He rolled over and sat up in bed, trying to listen to the conversation. 

“We are at some hotel now,” Liam whispered. “No, we are going to Brighton first, and then Bristol.” Liam stopped talking. He sighed heavily. “We are coming to Cardiff, Lou,” Liam said sternly. Harry’s breath hitched in his throat. _What was in Cardiff?_ “I don’t care if you don’t care. I told you before, we’re on our way and if your house isn’t cleaned by the time we get there, I’m going to beat you myself.”

Silence formed in the hotel room, the air conditioner cutting on being the only noise.

“Louis Tomlinson,” Liam began, “you are an arsehole. Do you not think he blames himself enough?” _Oh_ , Harry thought, _they’re talking about me_. “Do this for me?” Liam begged. “Clean your house.”

Liam stopped talking after that and walked back into the bedroom. Harry still sat on the bed, half sitting up. Liam stopped, startled, before clutching his chest.

“Harry, you scared the shit out of me,” he exclaimed quietly. Harry kept a straight face while he watched Liam climb back into bed.

“Louis knows we are going to Cardiff?” Harry asked, shuffling around so Liam could get comfortable. Liam nodded. “What’s in Cardiff?”

“Louis is.”

Liam fell asleep shortly after. Harry stayed awake for a few more hours to see the sunrise over London. He was envious of the sun. With one flip of a switch, the sun could demolish everything in its path. Harry almost wanted to scream at the sun to take him away before they made the journey to Louis. He didn’t know what was waiting for him in Cardiff, but his stomach twisted in knots at the very thought.

 

~

 

 

_Sometime in the afternoon at the Brighton Pier_

 

“Harold, get out of the car!” Niall whined. Harry sneered at all three of the boys. His heart raced with anger. He knew they’d bring him here, and that bothered him for some unknown reason. He only came here with the boys when something traumatic happened. Something did, but he didn’t want to be reminded of the accident years down the line when they brought him here for another thing that happened. Harry shook his head and stared out the window of the car.

“Jesus, Harry, would you stop acting like a child and come on?” Zayn yelled.

Harry didn’t say anything, instead, keeping his gaze on the pier. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Liam throw up his hands in defeat and climb in the backseat with him, sighing heavily and staring at him with a frustrated look.

“I don’t want to go,” Harry muttered petulantly.  

“You know we didn’t bring you here because this is, like, some mourning place, right?” Liam asked him. Harry gave him an unconvinced glance.

“Why did you bring me here then?”  

Liam shrugged his shoulders and ruffled his hair. “Thought we could grab some chips and chill for a bit.”

Harry looked at him in disbelief. “Seriously?”

Liam smirked and nodded. “No big deal, Haz. Just a little chill before we get back on the road.”

Harry considered his options for a long moment, but caved when Liam stuck out his bottom lip in a pout.  Liam, looking very smug with himself, led the boys up the pier to the chip stop. They all grabbed food and a drink and went to sit on the edge of the pier where it was not as windy.  

After eating, Liam took Harry’s hand and led him down the pier. Harry stopped midway and reviled in the floating sensation he felt. With a smile, Liam stood behind Harry to make sure he didn’t fall. Liam picked Harry’s arms up and held them at the boy’s sides.

** Easily – Bruno Major **

Harry took a deep breath in and let the wind consume him. It reminded him of the music video they shot on the Clevedon Pier. It was so cold that day, and Harry remembered everyone running for hot chocolate and their coats when they had finished different shots. The memories began to flood back into his thoughts, and for a moment, he felt everything else disappear.

“This is so sick!” Harry yelled over the gust of wind that threatened his frame. Liam grinned behind him. Harry let himself go and smiled a big toothy grin. His body felt like it was floating again, as if he was flying. He missed this feeling. The feeling of being protected and watched for, as Liam was doing for him. He knew the other two probably wouldn’t join them, but he was glad when he heard their footsteps come running down the wooden planks.

The four boys took part in floating for a while. They didn’t care if people were watching, and they didn’t care if paps had shown up. All they cared about was the time they were having in that very moment. They enjoyed their time at the pier because it meant they were back together as brothers. Harry held their hands, legs, and arms like they were his lifeline. And in essence, they actually were.

When they decided to leave, the paps had now surrounded the place and attracted fan girls who were intent on seeing their idols together again. Harry held tightly to Liam’s arm as he led them to the car, their security team protecting them from the hoard of people. Harry heard fans shouting at them, asking questions. Suddenly, his vision blurred and his heart began to race. He couldn’t tell the difference between screaming girls, and screaming men trying to steal their pictures.

“OI!” a man yelled in Harry’s ear. “You want to come back to the shows, Faggot?!” The other three heard the comment, and all but had to haul Harry backwards to keep him from attacking the man. They pulled him to the car and shoved him into the backseat before he could get away.

They left the parking lot fairly quickly, trying to get free of the new guests. Harry sat in the backseat with Liam, seething in anger. Liam, the angel boy he was, held Harry’s hand with a steady grip. Zayn drove the four of them out. Harry held on to the handle above him so tightly, his knuckles began to turn white. Liam tried to sooth him, but to no avail. The boys left Harry alone for the rest of the journey until they got to Bristol. Harry didn’t speak.

He was embarrassed and pissed off, not at the boys, but at himself. Harry took three years of his life to figure out exactly what he wanted, out of life and out of love, and everything he’d worked for, that man just ruined it.  

Harry was happy that he came out when he did. He was glad he could express himself in ways he couldn’t before. He was happy being who he was. But with that one little comment, his world seemed like he was right back where he used to be: hiding behind closed doors. 

“Let’s head to Bristol, yeah?” Zayn asked, still driving. He didn’t bother stopping for anything on the drive. He figured the paps would find them again and try to antagonize Harry. Niall turned on some music to fill the silent void in the car. Beside Harry, Liam pulled out his phone and requested more security, wanting more to protect the four of them. It was decided to meet in Bristol, where they would follow the boys all the way to Cardiff just in case there was another accident.  

Harry sighed deeply, shutting out the noise around him. He settled into his seat, pulling his blanket around his body and getting comfortable. Harry fell asleep with his head against the window, Liam still holding onto his hand.

 

~

 

 

_8:54 p.m. in a hotel in Bristol_

 

Harry didn’t sleep much that night. He kept going to the balcony to smoke, while scrolling through his twitter feed. He wouldn’t look at social media after a while when the band broke up. He couldn’t bear to see the backlash and the hate he thought he might get. Harry downloaded it once again when Gemma complained. His twitter account hadn’t been used in so long, but he occasionally liked to scroll.   

He only followed a few people, those including the four other boys in the band, along with some friends made along the way. He saw Louis had been tweeting recently. Most of the tweets were talking about old friends and skeletons in the closet. His last tweet hit Harry like a ton of bricks.

 

_@LouisTomlinson : Seeing you would sting, just like your words did the night you left_

 

Harry liked the tweet without thinking about it. Then, realizing he made his twitter presence known, he shut down the app before he could see anything roll through the notifications. He then shoved his phone back into his pocket like he’d done more than ten times before. His heart raced in his chest while he finished his cigarette. Seconds later, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Someone had sent Harry another tweet Louis sent out.

 

_@LouisTomlinson : It took me so long to get over you, now you’re back and making a fool out of me_

 

Harry groaned and put his phone down on the table. He didn’t want to look at his phone again. Harry finished up his cigarette and flicked it away, before grabbing his phone and walking back into the hotel room. He turned off the device and plugged it into the wall to charge. The other boys were fast asleep now, and Harry didn’t want to disturb them. Instead, he decided to head downstairs to the bar near the lobby.

He sat in one of the stools and ordered a glass of water. The hotel was quiet inside, while the press were going crazy outside. He sipped the drink slowly, cherishing every drop as it stripped his throat of any feeling. Harry felt a presence sit next to him, but he didn’t look up to acknowledge them.

“Never thought I’d see you again,” the voice said quietly. Suddenly, Harry felt his stomach in his throat. He knew that voice. He knew that beautiful voice that inspired him to do so much when he first came out. Harry slowly turned his head to reveal the boy to him.

 “Blake,” Harry breathed. His voice wavered slightly. Blake smiled at him softly, crossing his ankles and sitting back in his chair.

 Blake ordered his drink and swallowed in one sitting. “What brings you back in these woods?” he asked.  

“Road trip,” is all Harry could make out. Blake nodded and ordered another drink.  

“How are you doing?” Blake wondered. The question rolled over Harry before he could grasp what he was trying to ask. When it sunk in, Harry’s jaw dropped open just a touch and he could feel the way his heart rate picked up slightly.  

“Why are you here, Blake?” Harry pressed. “You have your own flat. Why, of all places, did you choose to come here? Tonight?” Harry stared at the boy in front of him with waiting eyes.

“Family came in and the kids wanted to stay somewhere with a pool,” he replied calmly. “So, how are you doing?”

Harry gaped at him for a moment before picking up his water and carrying it through the door to the private smoking area, not bothering to see if the boy was following him. He sat down in one of the chairs and pulled out a cigarette from his pack, lighting it up and taking a slow drag.

Blake followed moments later.  

“Still ignoring me?” Blake pressed. Harry scoffed.

“What do you want?” Harry asked, now annoyed.

“Just trying to figure out how you’re doing since the accident. Press said it was on purpose, but I didn’t believe them for a second,” his ex-boyfriend shrugged. Blake’s eyes roamed over the boy slowly, taking in the walking boot, the cuts and scars still visible, and even the dark circles that still wound around Harry’s eyes. Blake narrowed his eyes and pointed to Harry’s hand. “When did you start smoking?”

Harry took a puff and blew the smoke in his face. “Helps me relax. Started after I stopped writing,” Harry replied. Blake listened intently, never taking his eyes off Harry.

“I missed you,” Blake whispered, almost so quietly that Harry missed it.

Almost.

Harry felt his blood boil. His breath escaped his lips in spurts. He was getting more irritated by the second. Everything with Blake was coming to a head, and he didn’t know what to do to stop it. More importantly, though, Harry realized Blake hadn’t lived in Bristol for years, and his family liked to visit Brighton. Harry scoffed to himself and shook his head. He sat his glass of water down and finished off his cigarette, trying to calm himself down.

“Harry, please,” Blake pushed, his hand slowly creeping to hold on to Harry’s own.  

“Don’t you dare say shit like that to me,” Harry hissed. Blake held up his hands and backed away, trying his best to look innocent. “No, don’t do that. You have no idea what I have been through to get to this point. You don’t miss me, Blake. You don’t miss me at all. Your family probably isn’t even in town,” Harry said harshly, standing up and pacing.

“Hazza, please,” Blake tried, moving to stand in front of Harry.

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Harry said shoving his hand on Blake’s chest, pushing him back. The Ex looked scared. “You know I hate that name.”

Blake regained his balance and straightened out his shirt and jacket, smoothing over his hair. Harry took a deep breath.  

“No one else has ever called me that…” Harry trailed away and gazed out to the skyline of the city. His chest felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside, scratching and clawing to get out.

“M’sorry. I’ll go,” Blake spoke. Harry grabbed his hand before he could leave. He growled and pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around Blake’s built frame, putting his head against the boy’s chest. Blake took it in strides, wrapping Harry up in a hug, rubbing the boy’s back. “You’re alright,” Blake whispered when he felt a wet patch form on his shirt from Harry’s tears.

“I miss him so much,” Harry whimpered. Blake nodded and carded his fingers through Harry’s curls.

“Have you spoke to him?” he asked softly.

Harry shook his head from where it sat against Blake’s chest. “Keeps ignoring everyone except Liam. Have you heard from him?” Harry inquired.

 “He called me the other day,” Blake said slowly. Harry pulled away from his embrace and stared into his eyes, willing him to continue. Blake moved Harry back to their chairs, sitting them both down, and taking Harry’s hands in his larger ones. “Luka has been pretty fucked up since he found out about your accident. After the press conference, he stayed at mine for a few days. Almost drank himself to death if I’m honest.”

“Cut the shit, and just tell me what he wanted?” Harry seethed, his anger boiling within his chest. Blake rolled his eyes and took a swig of his drink.

“Asked me to check up on you. Said he talked to Liam and knew where you’d be staying. All he wanted was to make sure you were alright. He wanted to make sure you were alive,” Blake explained.

“Why didn’t he talk to me himself, then?” Harry asked. His bottom lip trembled. “I’m right fucking here, but he couldn’t stand to speak to me for two minutes?”

Blake squeezed Harry’s hand gently. “Harry, do you remember anything from the hospital?” he asked. Harry stopped short, trying to find words. He shook his head finally, followed by a shrug. “When you see him, talk to him about what happened in the hospital.” Harry met Blake’s gaze and could see the sincerity in his tone. Harry nodded.

“Are you going to go call him after you leave the hotel?” Harry wondered, standing to go back to his bed.

Blake chuckled and followed suit, standing and grabbing his drink. “I won’t if you don’t want me to. But if you’re okay with it, I’ll call him when I get to my car and let him know you’re fine,” he replied. Harry considered it.

“Call him in the morning; make him wait for it,” Harry answered. Blake smiled and pulled the boy in for another hug, one of promises. Promises and new beginnings, and a reason to wake up again the next morning.


	7. part one chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! another chapter for you beautiful people. Thank you megan for being my platonic soul mate, and love of my life. 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright  
> Tumblr @alwaysandforeverlou
> 
> No songs used in this chapter

_In Cardiff_

 

Liam drove through the small city of Cardiff, Zayn sitting next to him in the front seat and controlling the music. Harry watched as the scenery passed them, the small cathedral on the left side of the road, the catholic school beside it. Houses lined the streets as they drove by, snow beginning to fall around the car. Harry silently thanked the gods above their security team let them loose for the rest of the trip after getting mobbed in one of the smaller cities. Having three vans drive through a city that size would cause mass mayhem.

Driving across an interstate, Liam turned left on a road and shifted in his seat, almost like was nervous. Zayn glanced over at the boy driving and rolled his eyes. Niall began packing away his electronics and small items into a backpack, getting ready to get out of the car. Harry waited until they reached a gate with a long driveway attached to it before he started to pack his things up. Liam rolled down his window and quickly reached out to punch in a number on a mic stand, rolling the window back up once the gate creaked open slowly.

The driveway to the house was long and narrow, dipping through countryside and flying high on hills. Trees were covered in falling snow, the ground beneath them littered with small white specks.

Once they reached the house, Liam killed the engine and jumped out quickly, Zayn and Niall following suit to get the bags. Harry remained glued to his seat as seconds passed, his stomach now in his throat. Niall and Zayn went for the boot of the car to retrieve their bags while Liam ran for the front door, knocking loud enough for Harry to hear it while he still sat in the vehicle. The front door swung open and revealed a silhouette being lightened from the warmth inside the large home. 

After the bags were all out, Niall shut the boot and followed Zayn to the front door. Snow began to fall at a constant speed now, and Harry shivered from the lack of warmth. He opened the door slowly, letting the cold hit him in a rush. He could hear the boys greeting each other like normal. Nevertheless, Harry was nervous.

This was meeting his ex-boyfriend again after three years without even speaking to one another. It was the beginning of the potential end, and Harry was not ready for that. He could sing in front of thousands of people without issue, but standing in front of one single person made his bones shake from the core, his heart threatening to pound away from his chest, made him turn to putty.  

“It’s bloody freezing, innit? The one year Cardiff decides to snow,” Louis cried, hurrying the others inside his home. Harry shut the door of the car loudly and met Louis’ gaze. They were silent. Neither of them had seen each other for years. Harry almost forgot the way he looked.

Almost.

Louis stared at him for a moment. Harry watched as his left hand balled into a fist. “Come on, in you go,” Louis spoke, a puff of air escaping his lips from the cold. He held out a hand towards the younger boy, snow falling in both of their hair and eyelashes as seconds pass. “Jesus, Haz, come on, you’re going to catch a cold,” he pressed moving out of the way of his door to clear a path for the boy.  

Harry did as he was told before he could stop to change his mind and rushed to get inside the house, Louis following behind him and closing the door. He toed off his boots and set them by the other band mates’ shoes. Harry brushed off the snow from his hair and face, followed by his clothing. Once he was done, Harry walked into the living area to find the other boys getting comfortable.

“If you’re going to be staying here for a bit, you’re going to clean up after yourselves,” Louis said sternly, already pulling Niall’s feet off the coffee table in front of the couch. The boy grunted and pouted. “Put the lip away,” he added with a flick to the boy’s lip. Liam and Zayn chuckled and snuggled into the sofa. Harry moved to a chair in the far side of the room, already feeling uncomfortable.  

Louis picked up a mug from an end table and started for, what Harry guessed, was the kitchen. Liam giggled and waved at the eldest boy. “Never would have thought Louis Tomlinson would end up being the cleanest of us all,” he teased. Louis stopped and turned on his heels, flipping Liam off before he spoke.  

“Times change, Liam, people change,” Louis answered, his eyes never straying from Harry’s face. "I never thought Niall would be married first, but here we are." Finally, as the tension reached a peak, Liam cleared his throat and Louis averted his eyes, leaving Harry a shaking mess on the chair he still occupied.

Louis left the living room, quiet surrounding the four boys. Harry sighed and scrubbed the side of his face. He glanced over at Liam, who was already looking at him. “This was an awful idea, Liam,” Harry whispered. Liam rolled his eyes and leaned his head against Zayn’s shoulder, Niall huffing and propping his feet back up on the coffee table.

~

 

After the boys had eaten and warmed up, they showered in the spare bathrooms and changed out of their clothes before joining back in the living room. Harry was the first finished with his shower, finding Louis sitting on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his legs. He sat quietly on the chair he took up earlier, and waited silently for the others to finish washing.

An hour later, Louis stood to stretch his arms above his head. He turned to his band mates and yawned. “Time for bed. If you want to stay up, be my guest but clean up after you’re done,” he instructed. “Are you all staying up?” he asked. The three traitors nodded, but looked over to Harry as he cleared his throat and stood up.

“Guess I’m the only one going to bed,” he said quietly. Louis stuttered but nodded his head and beckoned Harry to follow him through the house. Harry grabbed his bags from the foyer and followed him up the stairs.

This house was different than he had known. Harry had never been to this house. He used to go to the house Louis had in London and was familiar with that house. He knew where to hide, where to look for Louis, and even where to hide things so Louis wouldn’t find them. Harry knew that house like the back of his hand, even had a hand in decorating that home. This was different.

Louis’s Cardiff home was bigger than the London home, and there was no sign of Harry in it whatsoever. It was strictly Louis, but maybe that’s what he’d been going for. _It is a house without me in it_ , Harry thought to himself.

“You’re staying here,” Louis instructed as he opened up a bedroom door. Harry moved inside and sat his bags down by the bed. He sat down gingerly and glanced up at Louis. He leaned against the doorframe and pointed down the hall. “I’m next door if you need me.”

“Thank you,” Harry whimpered. He yawned and scratched his shirt, revealing the tattoos on his collarbones: two birds in black and white ink. “For everything, I mean.” Louis’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Harry smirked. “I heard Liam made you get rid of the alcohol,” he elaborated.

Louis chuckled softly and shook his head. “It wasn’t a hardship. I know you’re clean, so I don’t want to compromise that.”

Harry reached down and pulled his socks off, balling them up and dropping them by his bag. “And for that, I’m thankful,” he pressed. “You didn’t have to do any of this, but you did.” Harry pushed his curls away from his face and shrugged. “I don’t really know why, but you did. So… Thank you.”

Luke stepped into the room and went to the closet, opening the door and beginning to pull blankets from the contents. “Can’t really say I know why I did it either, but there’s nothing we can do now,” he replied. Harry snapped his head in the boy’s direction. His tone held animosity, and Harry couldn’t place it, but something about his words send a shrill down his spine.

“I don’t understand what I did wrong here,” Harry whispered. Louis snorted and turned away from the closet, now carrying the blankets toward the bed.

“I guess that hasn’t changed,” Louis said.

Harry gave him a hard glare with his brows pinched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Louis stopped and stood his ground. “You’re right, I didn’t have to throw out the liquor, or clean up the spare bedrooms, or even flush the weed I had. So, yes, Harry, you’re right. I didn’t have to do any of that.” He huffed out a breath and looked to the ceiling. Harry sat frozen in his spot, not daring to breathe, move, or speak. “The only reason I did this is because Liam didn’t give me a choice. You don’t understand what you’ve done wrong – “

“How long are you going to punish me, Louis?” Harry interrupted. Louis groaned loudly.

“How long are you going to blame me, _Harry_?” Louis replied.

Harry scoffed and laughed lowly. “You think I’m blaming you for this? What gave you that grand idea?”

Louis threw his hands up in the air as his face reddened with anger. “You’re treating me like this entire thing is my fault!”

Harry was quiet. His heart began to pound loudly in his chest, his hands shaking out of his control. If Louis had any idea the amount of stress Harry put on himself, blaming himself for the things that happened between the two of them. Harry ran a shaky hand through his hair and shook his head.

“If you think I’m blaming you for my shit, you don’t know me at all,” Harry said. “I’ve spent the last three years blaming myself for hurting you. The band, which was _my_ fault, Louis. I have never blamed you for anything that happened, because it was never yours to begin with.”

“In that interview – “

“You know damn good and well I didn’t mean what I said in that interview,” Harry hissed. “I was planning on coming out in that interview, which I did. Everything went downhill from there. The journalist was provoking me, knowing it’d get a reaction.” Harry tugged at the shirt around his neck, pulling it from his skin and pushing cool air across his face. “I tried to make it easier for you by keeping your name out of it, but then he said you’d be upset about not getting to me first. I did, Louis, I tried so hard,” he begged, feeling the familiar pinprick around his eyes, his throat aching.

Louis paced around the room, his hands still full with blankets, with his thumb in his mouth, his telltale sign of stress. Seconds went by, the clock on his watch ticking by loudly in the silent room. He would stop and open his mouth as if he was going to speak, but eventually put his thumb back between his teeth and went back to pacing.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy coming out, especially with us being so young. But please believe me when I tell you I didn’t want to out you,” Harry pressed.

“You didn’t out me then. I came out a year after the band split up.”

“I saw,” Harry whimpered. Louis stopped by the bed and smiled softly. “I’m proud of you,” he added.

“It wasn’t easy, but it could have been worse.”

“Ha,” Harry laughed. “At least you didn’t end up as the gay, drugged out alcoholic of a washed up rock band.”

Louis scowled at the younger boy. “Why do you do that? We were getting somewhere with an actual conversation, and you had to go and ruin it,” he said, his tone exasperated.

“It’s easy for you to say, Louis. You didn’t ruin the band with that fucking interview. You didn’t ruin the one good thing you had because of some stupid comment!” Harry roared. “Fucking hell, it’s like you don’t know how easy you have this.”

“Jesus Christ, Harry, you think this is easy for me?” Louis asked incredulously. Harry scoffed and scrubbed both hands down his face, groaning loudly. “You show up out of nowhere and suddenly, I’m supposed to be alright with giving you a bedroom. I’m expected to take this and be fine with it. Do you want to know what I did yesterday, Harry?” he spat. “I drank an entire fucking bottle of whiskey to prepare myself for you to show up!” Harry gasped at his words and shook his head, a devilish smile ghosting his lips.

“What, you think it was easy for _me_ being hauled across England after I got out of the hospital? I broke my leg, ribs, and went through a _detox_. Let’s not forget the surgery I had on my gallbladder while we’re at it,” Harry roared. “They took me to the one place I didn’t want to go because the last time I saw your face, you were punching me. Did you really think I would want to come here, of all places? Tell me, in what world would I have it easy?” he hissed.

Louis threw a pile of blankets on the ground with a high-pitched scream. Harry watched him toss the blankets and pillows away from the bed to put clean sheets on it. Getting nowhere easily, Louis grunted in frustration and stopped his movements, glaring at Harry from under his hooded eyelids. Harry rolled his eyes and stepped forward, taking the blankets from Louis and setting them on the bed.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Louis hissed as he turned away from Harry and walked back to the closet to pull more things down. “I was doing just fucking fine without you. Now you are back, and I look like the fool for letting you in.”

“Throw me out then, Louis,” Harry spat, following Louis to the closet and standing behind him, a centimeter of air between their bodies. “Make me leave, send me on my merry way,” he whispered right beside Louis’ left ear.

Louis shivered and leaned back against Harry’s body, warmth suddenly blanketing the both of them. It felt as if this was Louis’s way of surrendering to his feelings, to Harry. It wasn’t a sexual surrender; no, it was emotional. Like he was letting Harry in to see his soul. Harry lifted his right hand and placed it on Louis’s hip, breathing in his cologne and hairspray. He moved his thumb in small circles, slipping under the older boy’s shirt to finally touch just a sliver of supple skin. 

“Why did you come back?” Louis asked quietly. Harry leaned his forehead against the back of the shorter boy’s head.

“For you,” Harry answered. “The drugs and alcohol never made you go away,” he explained. “Where ever I went, it was only you. I couldn’t be with anyone else.” _It wasn’t you_. “If you don’t want me here, tell me and I’ll be gone. I’ll leave right now if you tell me to, but I’ve got no plans at all to leave.”

“Harry – “

Harry leaned his head forward to drag his lips across the skin where Louis’s shoulder met his neck. “I would rather wait an eternity for you, than find something else to fill the void.”

Louis inhaled deeply as Harry pressed his lips firmer to the same spot, but snapped his eyes open and shoved the boy off him. He crossed the room to the window and stood there for a moment, his chest rising and falling quickly as he adjusted his cloth joggers. Harry rolled his eyes and groaned, the sides of his eyes prickling and his bottom lip beginning to tremble.

Three steps forward, four steps back.

Harry sat down on the bed and crossed his ankles, folding his hands in front of him and hunching over. He tried to keep his breathing calm to contrast that of Louis, who stood in front of the window with labored breaths. Harry sniffled once, wiping his face quickly. Louis winced at the sound, his entire body shuddering. Harry could feel Louis’s eyes on him, setting it ablaze in the cold bedroom.

“You have every right to kick me out, Louis. I never made it easy for you and we both know that. You have no idea how many times I wished I could go back and change what happened that night. But now – I don’t think I would change things,” Harry explained, still not daring to turn around to see Louis lean over and place his hands on the window sill for balance.

“I wouldn’t change it either,” Louis replied.

“Everything that’s happened has happened, and there’s nothing we can do about it. I am clean for the first time in months, from the drugs and alcohol.” Harry stopped and sniffed again, clearing his throat loudly.

“’M proud of you, ya know,” Louis interrupted. “Liam called me when you were still in the hospital and told me you were clean. I never felt more proud of you than I did then.”

Harry scoffed quietly and shook his head. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up from the bed, turning his head for just a fraction of a second to see Louis now facing him with his eyes trained on the floor. He stared at the older boy in front of him, how much he had changed over the years.

His hair, that used to sweep across his forehead in gentle waves, was now shorter, styled up into a quiff on top of his head. His cheekbones were ever more prominent and stood out, bringing age and beauty to his face. His arms were toned, muscles now filled out and broadening his shoulders to fit under the tight long sleeved shirt he wore. He was still shorter than Harry, almost an entire foot now, but he was graceful.

Harry’s breath hitched in his throat as Louis looked up and met his gaze, piercing blue eyes seeing straight through Harry’s façade and to his soul.

“I’m not going to promise we can be friends, Harry. There are things we have to work through, but I don’t know if we can be just friends after what’s happened,” Louis spoke. Harry nodded, still locked in his gaze. “I’m going to be civil with you.” Louis cleared his throat and scrubbed the side of his face.

“If you meet me halfway, I’ll be there,” Harry whimpered. “I’m not leaving again.” Louis nodded and took a step closer to the younger boy. Harry stopped breathing for a moment and let out an audible exhale when Louis stopped moving.

“Harry – “

“Don’t get my hopes up if there isn’t a chance,” Harry said suddenly. Louis stepped closer to Harry again, getting closer and closer with every step.

“I wouldn’t be having this discussion with you if I didn’t think there was a chance in the future,” Louis replied. Harry’s eyes widened slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. He glanced down at Louis’s lips for a half a second before they snapped back up to the shorter boy’s eyes.

“I’ll leave if you want me to. You say the word and I’ll be gone by morning,” Harry stated softly. Louis finally stepped close enough to touch and lifted his hand to Harry’s chest, sliding it gently against the fabric of the shirt he wore. Louis leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of Harry’s mouth, just missing his lips by a single centimeter. After he lowered back down to the balls of his feet, Louis gave Harry a quick smile and walked around him, heading for the door. Harry cleared his throat and turned on his heels quickly. “Tell me to leave and you won’t have to see me again,” he said again as Louis’s hand reached out for the doorknob.

Louis stopped his movements and froze on the spot, considering his options. He inhaled sharply and turned the doorknob just an inch. Harry watched as Louis’s head glanced in his direction for a moment for it was back to the door. His shoulders rose in a deep breath and on his exhale, he murmured, “Don’t leave,” barely above a whisper. With that, he was gone out the door, the soft click of the lock sounding through the room.

Harry flopped back onto the bed, star fishing his arms and legs on the messy sheets, a smile boring into his cheeks, setting his entire body afire in a happy blaze. He fell asleep like that, still dressed in his tee and joggers, dreaming of blue eyes and soft hair.


	8. part one chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus christ the amount of love I'm getting on this story is beyond me. thank you so much for reading and sticking by my side. i love each and everyone one of you. 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright  
> Tumblr @alwaysandforeverlou
> 
>  
> 
> Songs Used in Chapter Eight  
> 6:00 - grandson  
> Watch Me - The Phantoms  
> Someone You Loved - Lewis Capaldi

_Sometime the next morning_

 

Harry awoke to the sound of loud banging coming from the kitchen. He turned on his back, sore from sleeping in one spot all night, and stretched, letting out a sleepy groan. His bedroom was bright with sunlight filtering in through the window. Harry rolled over and pulled on his phone, checking the time and messages. After sending a quick one to his mum and sister, Harry climbed out of bed and grabbed a change of clothes.

In the living room, Liam sat snuggled up to Zayn with a blanket draped over the two of them. Niall popped his head around the corner and smiled. “Good morning, Harold!” He beamed. He walked to Harry with a cup of steaming liquid between his hands. “Coffee,” he said handing over the cup. “Breakfast will be ready soon.” Niall disappeared back to the kitchen. “Louis, the waffles are burning!” he yelled as he turned the corner. Harry grinned to himself as Liam spooked awake and hit Zayn’s nose with his head.

The boys spent their day relaxing and watching the telly. After driving for days, they all needed a good rest. Outside, snow fell around the house in blankets.  

Harry always loved winter, because the world turned into a beautiful white canvas he felt the need to demolish. Not in the morbid sense, but instead a sense that he was an artist, and the snow was his canvas.

When he was younger, he would run through the snow to create images on the ground. He enjoyed the way flowers looked. The poor flowers that survived the rest of the season, now sprinkled in fairy dust. Harry found it ironic, the flowers. They live through seasons of harsh weather, and as soon as winter comes around, they endure the snow, and die a cold death. Such beautiful creatures, they were. Flowers kept the world running.

He often took pictures of the plants when he could. His favorite was of a purple flower, still in full bloom, sprinkled with snow. He thought about Louis when he looked at the picture.

“Alright, lads, I have to make a run to the shops. Anyone up for a trip?” Louis asked as he pulled on his jacket. Harry watched him put on his shoes. His motions were so angelic, so gentle. Harry stayed quiet while the others told Louis no.

Harry wanted to go.

He wanted to get out of the house and ride somewhere with Louis, alone. He wanted to badly to tag along and spend time with him. Harry felt like he couldn’t move or speak. His body was paralyzed. Before he walked out the door, Harry stood, working up enough courage move his feet.

“I’ll go,” he said quietly. Louis stopped, turning and studying Harry’s face. Louis was trying to call Harry’s bluff. Harry walked to where his coat hung on a ring and slung it on, slipping his shoes on after. Louis grabbed his keys after exchanging looks with Liam, who looked petrified.

“Right,” Louis said opening the door, “let’s go before this turns into a blizzard.” Harry walked out the door to Louis’s car, his heart pounding.

He climbed in the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt, still very quiet. The drive to the store was silent, neither boy wanting to break it.

When they arrived, they walked in five feet away from each other as Louis put things in the trolley. It was awkwardly quiet, the shopping trip.

The silence finally broke.

They were on the crisps isle when Louis set his eyes on a bag that sat on the top shelf.

Harry knew exactly where this was going. Louis reached for the bag, his hands stretching as far as they could as he stood on the very tips of his toes. Harry watched as Louis tried, his face scrunching up in frustration. His eyes trailed down to where Louis’s shirt lifted slightly, revealing the soft skin that sat underneath. Harry let out a quiet laugh, his eyes shimmering with mirth.

Louis turned his head at the boy. “Don’t laugh,” Louis stated, irritated. Harry, having had enough, made strides to the shelf and picked the bag off the top, handing it to Louis with a very smug grin. “Dick,” Louis remarked. Harry chuckled and let Louis toss the bag into the basket.

On the way home, Harry played music off his phone. One song in particular came on that made his throat close. It was One Direction’s very last single that he and Louis wrote together. They wrote about never wanting to lose the other. Harry listened to it only when he wanted to hear Louis’s voice. He went to change it, but Louis stopped him.

Harry tried to come with a topic they could discuss. They were going to try. Or, that’s what Louis said. Harry didn’t know what he could say or do that wouldn’t feel like overstepping. The only thing on Harry’s mind was Louis’ perception of him the night of the accident. He had to tell him it wasn’t his fault. So, he did as such.

** 6:00 – grandson  **

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Harry whispered, putting his phone back down.

“I didn’t want to believe,” Louis replied easily. “I was worried.”

“Yet, you didn’t call or text?” Harry blurt out before he could stop himself.

Louis scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not that easy.”

“I guess backhanded tweets are though, right?”

Louis didn’t say anything after that. Harry hit the nail right on the head, and he knew it. Harry didn’t feel proud of his comment, but after what he’d been through, he felt it was needed.

“Didn’t mean for it to get that bad,” Louis finally said. “I tried – I mean, I just –“ Louis stuttered for a moment before he shut his mouth and sighed. Harry shook his head.

“I didn’t either.” Harry waited for a response, but got none. “I didn’t come along to argue with you, Lou.”

Louis turned down the music but kept his gaze on the road. “Last night you said Liam drug you here. But you didn’t have to come if you really didn’t want to. So tell me why you showed up?” he pressed. “If you didn’t want to be here last night, why are you here now?”

“I thought we covered this last night, Louis,” Harry said coolly. “You want me to go, then I’ll go. I got clean for you, I got sober for you. I came back here to try and fix the only thing worth fixing.”

“You say that like you’re not worth fixing, yourself,” Louis remarked.

Harry scoffed and tightened his jaw. “I know I’m fucked up. I deal with that. But right now, the only thing I care about fixing is my relationship with you.” Harry stopped to take a deep breath. “But if you’re not willing to meet me halfway like the talked about, then I can go home now.”

“Jesus, Harry, do you hear yourself sometimes?” Louis hissed.

“You’re one to talk, Lou,” Harry spat. Louis’ grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. Harry saw white fury. He had completely forgotten about seeing his publicity boyfriend, and he was going to make sure Louis knew how he felt about it. “Blake wanted me to tell you hello, by the way,” he added.

“Did he now?” Louis hummed.

Harry eyed him carefully. “He did. Wanted to check up on me, see how I was doing, making sure I wasn’t trying to kill myself that night.”

“That was nice of him,” the older boy remarked.

Harry rolled his eyes. He could feel the anger behind his eyelids, boiling in his blood like a white hot branding iron. “Christ, you’re a fucking joke, Louis,” Harry scoffed.

“Yeah, I’m the joke in this car right now,” Louis said.

Harry pushed his hair away from his face and grit his teeth. “What did you think was going to happen when Blake showed up at the hotel? Did you think I would sleep with him?”

“Jesus, no –“

“Did you think I was going to tell him I’m a suicidal junkie?” Harry pressed.

“Harry, just fucking stop –“

“Better yet, did you think I’d tell him all our secrets? Fuck, what were you fucking thinking sending him to find me?” 

“I don’t know!” Louis yelled, finally, a tear escaping his eye and running down his cheek. “I wasn’t thinking, okay?! I just wanted to make sure you were alright!”

 Harry scrubbed his eyes. “You could have fucking called,” he whimpered. Harry felt his heart rip into pieces watching Louis cry. It wasn’t a loud cry at all. It was silent, his body never faltering. Harry spoke before his mind could tell him not to. “Fucking coward,” Harry whispered. Louis flinched at his words.

This was not what Harry had in mind when Louis said he’d meet him halfway.

This was so much worse.  

Nothing else was said on the ride home. Harry was angry.

They got home and put the groceries away silently. The other boys watched on as they moved around each other in the kitchen, never once touching each other in any form. Always avoiding the other.

That night, Niall slept on the floor with Liam wrapped around him. Zayn offered to stay on the couch just in case. Harry saw straight through that. Apparently, so did Louis. Harry found out later that the older boy slipped Zayn a condom before he finally went to bed.

Harry showered before climbing into his bed once more, snuggling under the warm sheets that covered his skin like the hot sun in July. He fell asleep curled around a pillow, dreaming of snow-covered flowers and blue eyes blinking at his.

 

~

 

Harry woke up the next morning to the sounds of awakening boys from downstairs. He stood from his bed and slipped on a sweatshirt quickly, the cold breeze in the room getting too much of him. His skin became littered with goosebumps, skin rising like freshly pecked chicken skin.

 From where his phone sat on the table beside the bed, Harry turned as the screen lit up, an incoming phone call ringing.

Harry picked up his phone quickly, not looking to see who it was on the other line.

“My darling boy,” Anne spoke into the receiver.

Harry sighed heavily and crumpled onto his bed, drawing his legs up and curling into a ball. “Mummy,” he whined, his eyes welling with tears.

“Have you made it to Louis’?” she asked sweetly. Harry nodded even though she couldn’t see him.

“I think it’s safe to say he hates me,” Harry replied.

Anne cooed in the phone. “Sweet boy, I don’t think he hates you. I think he’s dealing with this in his own way.”

“When we first got here,” Harry explained, “he said we’d work on it. He said he’d meet me halfway. But yesterday, it was like something switched in his mind. He’s not my Louis anymore, mum.”

“Harry, listen to me very carefully. Louis was never anyone’s to keep. He was never an item to be kept or to have. He is a person with a free spirit, and that’s how he’s always going to be. You may get to live life along side him, but he was never yours to keep, love.”

Harry groaned and rolled over in his bed, slapping his hand against the headboard. “I don’t like when you get philosophical on me,” Harry said grumpily.

“I love you too, Harry,” she chuckled.

Harry and his mother talked for a bit longer on the phone until Harry’s stomach began talking so loudly Anne could hear it through the speaker.

** Watch Me – The Phantoms **

Downstairs, the boys were playing an intense game of Mario Kart between Liam and Niall. Zayn watched on fondly, and Louis was typing away on his laptop. Harry entered the room, earning kind glances from the boys. Except for Louis. He watched Louis look up from his laptop and then avert his eyes again.

Harry traveled to the kitchen to make himself something for lunch. He opted for a sandwich, something quick that he could eat in the kitchen. He didn’t want to go to living room. After all these years, his mind chose now to get scared. He’d never felt this way before, afraid to be with his mates.

Zayn entered the kitchen as Harry was finishing his food. He grabbed a drink from the fridge and stood next to Harry, invading his personal space.

“If you expect things to get better, you need to get a move on it,” Zayn whispered, so Harry would be the only one to hear it. Harry lifted an eyebrow in question. “Don’t act daft. Just talk to him. As Harry, not the person everyone thinks you’ve become,” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry replied. Zayn rolled his eyes and bumped hips with Harry.

“Yes you do.”

Zayn left after that, leaving Harry alone again. He finished his food and took a deep breath. He walked into the living room and sat down on the floor between Zayn’s legs. Harry felt Zayn smiling very smugly from behind him. Zayn played with Harry’s hair for a while as they all sat calmly, braiding his hair and rubbing his scalp.

After the game of Mario, in which Liam lost, Niall suggested they go outside to get some fresh air. Liam and Zayn stayed inside, which was expected. Harry, not wanting to catch them in the act, decided to go with Niall outside. He brought a ball with him, so he and Louis kicked around for a little while Harry watched on, careful of his still booted foot. He set a spot in the snow, his ass freezing on the ground.

“Come on, Tommo! Where did all those years of practice go?” Niall laughing, kicking the ball past Louis.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve played properly?” Louis retorted, running for the ball and throwing it to Niall. They kicked it back and forth for a while, letting Harry relax on the ground.

The peace didn’t last long, as Louis accidentally kicked the ball towards Harry, hitting him in the chest before he could defend himself. “Shit,” Harry pushed out. Louis ran over to him and grabbed the ball.

“Sorry, you alright?” Louis asked, turning the ball between his hands. Harry nodded weakly, holding his stomach. Louis didn’t respond, leaning down and placing a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Do I need to get one of the boys?”

Harry shook his head and watched as Louis lingered for a bit longer. When he deemed Harry fit enough, Louis stood and went back to Niall, always watching to make sure the ball didn’t get close to Harry.  

After a while, Harry stood from his place on the ground, bored of watching the two play. He decided to get up and walk around for a bit, working out the kinks in his legs and the throbbing in his chest.  

He walked around the property, the snow crunching under his walking boot and shoe. He found himself in the backyard, where a fountain, now frozen over, sat quietly in the middle. The garden was full of flowerbeds now empty and little figurines to keep the birds away. His favorite garden animal was a little bunny that was blue and pink, like baby shower shades. Under the snow, Harry could still see the eyes, bright and shining.

Harry heard shoes crunching their way towards him as he stood in front of the fountain.

“I’m sorry…” Louis said. “About yesterday in the car, and then earlier with the ball. I don’t know what I was thinking either time.”

Harry shrugged and cleared his throat. “I think we both have a lot to say sorry for, Lou,” he replied.

 “I think I have to agree with that statement,” Louis laughed lightly, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the car,” Harry blurted. Louis shot him a confused look. “I don’t think you’re a coward,” he clarified.

Louis shook his head and snuffled. “No, you were pretty spot on with that observation, Harry. Honestly, it was just a matter of time before someone called me out on it.”

“Blake told me why he came to find me. Said you’d stayed with him for a few days after the accident,” Harry stated.

Louis nodded and turned around, leaning his backside against the fountain. “After I left the hospital, I didn’t have anywhere to go but here,” he explained, gesturing to his property. “I didn’t really want to come home after that, and none of the guys would speak to me. So, I called a few people, and Blake was the only one to actually let me stay.”

Harry smiled softly and felt his shoulders sagging in defeat. “He is one of the kindest hearted souls I’ve ever met,” he said happily. “You could tell him you’ve just killed someone, and he’d have your back ready to dump the body.”

“He reminded me so much of how you were when the band first got together,” Louis smiled. It was the first genuine smile Harry had seen since he’d gotten there. “You were so lovely, always looking at things from a brighter side. That was one thing that made me fall in love with you.”

** Someone You Loved – Lewis Capaldi  **

Harry glanced over at Louis and felt his body go limp. Louis stared straight, never once looking in any other direction. His jaw was set, tightened and probably gritting his teeth. But underneath that, he looked pained. Like he wanted to say something, but was physically holding himself back. The last admission was something Harry never thought he’d hear again, to be honest.

“Lou, I didn’t mean those things I said about you,” Harry said numbly. Louis snapped his gaze towards Harry, his eyes watering.

“I know you didn’t,” Louis said, looking away again.

“Most of the time, they twisted my words around on me, making you out to be the bad person.” Harry walked around the fountain, dragging his hand over the ice. “Which you never were to begin with,” he added.

“I didn’t mean what I said in that interview with Grimmy,” Louis mumbled. Harry turned to face Louis now, caching his gaze.

Harry felt a chill go over his body. His mind raced with questions and thoughts he needed to tell the boy who stood before him. “Louis, can I ask you something?” Harry questioned.

Louis looked confused. “I guess so?” he answered softly.

Harry took a deep breath. “That night – at the pub – do you remember why we were fighting?”

Louis just… well he just kind of stared at Harry for a moment. His eyes roamed over Harry’s face, searching for something. “Do you not remember anything from that night?” he finally spoke, almost startling Harry.

“I was piss fucking drunk and high out of my mind, Lou. I don’t remember half of the award show now that I think about it,” Harry said pathetically. “I just remember waking up the next morning with one hell of a hangover, bruised knuckles, and a chipped tooth.”

“I messed your face up pretty good, didn’t I?” Louis snuffled, a hint of a smile working its way onto his face. Harry reached over and shoved him slightly.

“Something like that,” Harry said with a small smile. “Can you just – well, can you, like, refresh my memory a bit with that night?”

Louis looked over at Harry again and nodded, sighing as he sat down on the snowy ground. He patted the space next to him and beckoned Harry to sit, which he did. His hands shook as he pushed his fringe away from his forehead and scratched his chin.

“After the award show, we went out to some pub. Liam kept saying his buddies used to take him there all the time, so he was the one who found the damn thing. I don’t remember little details about who was there, and what we drank,” Louis said.

“I don’t really care what we drank,” Harry remarked quietly. Louis chuckled and shrugged.

“No, I guess not.” He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. “I think it started when you and I went to the loo. Someone spilled something on my shirt, but you said you knew a trick with soap that could get it out. In the loo, you kept saying you wished you could hold my hand when we walk out, and going on about coming out as a couple.”

“I did that a lot,” Harry mused. Louis snorted.

“I don’t even know where you got it or kept it, but you gave me this,” Louis explained, pulling a silver chain from under his coat and scarf, a silver band with a single blue stone sitting in the middle. Harry felt his body tense, inhaling sharply.

How the fuck did he have a ring.

Did he buy Louis a ring?

He _definitely_ bought Louis a ring.

“Louis, I…” Harry trailed away.

“No, don’t say anything, I’m not done,” Louis said holding up a hand. Harry shut his mouth quickly. “You gave me the ring, and I told you we needed to have that conversation in the morning when we were both sober. There was yelling and throwing things, and then we were outside in the road. I punched you, you hit me a few good times, and that was the end of it. Next week, we were signing paper work to end the band.”

“You kept that sodding ring?” Harry blurted. Louis laughed aloud and tucked it back under his shirt.  

“I tell you that you more or less proposed to me that night, before I beat the shit out of you, and you’re more worried about the ring?” Louis grinned. Harry groaned and rubbed his face. He could feel tears begging to push over the surface and fall down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he whined. “I’m really fucking sorry about everything.”

Louis stood and held out his hands, helping Harry to his feet. Once Harry was standing on his own, Louis dusted the back of his pants and began dusting off the front of Harry’s jacket.  

“I’m trying, Harry. I really am trying,” Louis said softly. Harry nodded weakly and used the heel of his palm to wipe at his eyes. “Let’s just – let’s – why don’t we go make dinner and work on the rest tomorrow?” he suggested. Harry smiled and held out his arm to let Louis lead the way.

That night, Harry and Louis made dinner while the other boys watched in anticipation.

Dinner was a roaring success.  

Harry slept the entire night, dreaming of the beach and playing at Madison Square Garden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is finally the end of PART ONE! Part two will be in Louis' point of view, so keep an eye out for that.   
> Thank you for reading!! xxxxx


	9. part two chapter nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PART TWO IS FINALLY HERE.   
> thank you all again for reading and leaving lovely comments. i really appreciate you all for making this process so easy for me. now that we're in part two, you'll notice things will switch to Louis' pov. in part two, there is also a lot of things that can be triggering for those who read it. like i said in chapter one, the death that will follow will not be detailed, and there will be warnings before it happens in case you want to skip over it. 
> 
> cancer is a very serious issue, and i don't want to make light of it or capitalize on it whatsoever, this is just my take on it. idk if that makes sense, but i do apologize if i offend anyone with my writing. 
> 
> as always, thank you all for everything.   
> a special shoutout to megan. i love you, you beautiful soul. 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafoffical  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright  
> Tumblr @alwaysandforeverlou
> 
> Songs Used in Chapter Nine  
> This Year's Love - David Gray  
> Bluebonnets - Aaron Watson  
> Let You Go - Jurrivh  
> Be Together - Jurrivh

**_Louis_ **

 

**_Six Years Ago_ **

_Louis walked through the hallway in search of anyone who might know where Harry might be. Their stylist hadn’t seen him for preshow prep, one of the security guards saw him in his dressing room, and after a very scorching conversation with Zayn, the boy hadn’t been seen. Louis searched the venue relentlessly, checking every closet and extra room they had access to, even those that were locked._

_The day had been stressful, to say the very least. Being stuck in meetings all day with their management team for hours in the morning, while expecting to perform a show that evening was enough to make the calmest human being an emotional wreck. There wasn’t enough coffee to get any of the boys through the day, even if Louis snuck in some donuts earlier that morning._

_After the meeting, Louis watched Harry walk straight out of the room without a second glance at anyone, and had been missing ever since. At first, Louis didn’t worry. He figured Harry might need some time to take a nap and recover from the morning’s stress. But three hours later, and no sign of his boyfriend, Louis began to worry._

_The meeting itself was just a debriefing of the band’s next few days in terms of shows, new album promo, and scheduled photoshoots. It was tame for the team, considering there had been worse meetings than that one._

_Louis rounded a corner and headed towards the stage where Liam and Niall were lounging on the edge. They turned and smiled at him when Louis made his presence known._

_“Hey, have you guys seen Haz?” he asked as soon as he was within earshot._

_Liam shook his head slightly. “I haven’t seen him since the meeting was over.”_

_“Did you ask Zayn?” Niall questioned._

_Louis groaned and rubbed his face before sliding his hand up to his hair to push back a chunk that had fallen into his eyes. “Chewed him out for losing track of him,” he replied. “I’ve looked in every room I could find. I thought maybe he’d be asleep, but he never even showed up for preshow stuff.”_

_Niall rubbed his eyebrow and scratched at a spot on his head. His eyes widened and he snapped his fingers quickly, slapping Liam and turning to Louis. “I saw him before I came up here!” he exclaimed. Louis remained quiet for Niall to finish his statement._

_“Jesus, could you tell us where you saw him?” Liam demanded before Louis got the chance._

_“Do you remember where the van dropped us off this morning?” Niall asked. Louis nodded quickly. “I saw him like twenty minutes ago up there talking to some guy.”_

** This Year’s Love – David Gray **

_Louis felt his stomach drop, his throat closing around a breath he tried to take. He took a steadying moment to calm his heartrate before he spoke again. “Tell me what the guy looked like?”_

_Niall furrowed his brows together. “He was really skinny, like, abnormally skinny. Black hair, with a full beard –“_

_“Fuck!” Louis said, turning on his heels and sprinting towards the rooms. “No, no, no,” he repeated as he ran. He could hear Niall and Liam trying to keep up with him as he went, running through the hallways like a lunatic._

_“Louis, what’s going on?” Liam asked from behind him, right on his heels._

_“Fuck, no, Hazza, no, no, no.”_

_Louis finally reached his dressing room, one that he shared with Harry, and threw the door open._

_A cough was heard in the bathroom, to which Louis went to quickly. After bursting through the door, he felt bile rise in his throat._

_His eyes landed on the plaid shirt that rested on the ground next to a belt. They followed the trail up to the sink counter, where a silver spoon rested with a thin needle next to it. A low whine brought his attention over to the bathtub, where Harry sat, skin turning blue and jaw slackened, laying against the tile._

_His body reacted in slow motion, moving to the tub to grab Harry and shake at his limp body. “No, no,” he repeated, slapping Harry’s cheek once, twice, and then a third time. “Wake up,” Louis whispered, using his thumb to lift the boy’s eyelid, producing an extremely dilated pupil. He reached down and picked up Harry’s arm to find a knowing track mark in the bend of his elbow. Louis pressed two fingers against the boy’s neck to check for a pulse, only finding a weak excuse for such._

_“Louis? Where are you?” a voice called from the room._

_At once, Louis lost all power he had, crying violently and clutching at his boy. “Call an ambulance!” he screamed to no one in particular. “Fuck, call someone!” Louis shook at Harry’s body again, before the boy fluttered his eyes and coughed roughly, frothy fluid being expelled from his mouth. “Come on, baby, come on.”_

_There were hands on his shoulders trying to pull him away from the tub, but Louis shrugged him off and pulled Harry’s body from the tub and onto the tile floor of the bathroom. He placed him between his legs and rocked the two back and forth, sickening sobs coming from Louis’s mouth. He couldn’t see Liam or Niall, couldn’t even hear anyone who came into the room. The only thing he focused on was the shallow breathes spilling from Harry’s mouth._

_It felt like hours sitting on the floor holding him, checking Harry’s pulse every three seconds. It felt like hours as he prayed to a god that he did not believe in to save his poor boy from the pain he was in. It felt like hours before a gruff looking man pulled Harry from Louis’s grasp to put him on a stretcher, wheeling him out of the room while two other men checked vitals and slipping a breathing mask over his boy’s face. It felt like hours of Louis screaming at the men to let him come with them to the hospital, with Niall and Zayn swearing they would take Louis to the hospital._

_It felt like so much pain had been condensed into one person and filled to the brim with white-hot fire, being caught by a lit match._

** Now **

Louis woke with a gasp; hands clutching at his bed sheets so hard his knuckles turned a stark white. The room around him felt cold, even though he felt sweat fall from his forehead and down his chest. His heart beat wildly in his body, causing his hands to shake and his breath to come out ragged and labored.

Laying back down against the sheets, Louis glanced to the clock that sat on his bedside table, groaning at the time. There was no way he was going back to sleep after that.

As the sun peeked over the horizon, Louis climbed out of bed and threw some clothes on, grabbing his pack of cigarettes on the way. He walked down to the kitchen and fixed himself a cup of coffee, noticing the cabinets had been opened. There was also a glass sitting next to the sink. Louis furrowed his brows and grabbed his coffee to find the culprit.

Sitting outside, Louis found Harry, with no shoes, and no jacket, puffing on a cigarette of his own. “It’s a bit cold for you to be out here without shoes, Hazza,” Louis said as he opened the door and made his way over to where Harry sat, grabbing a chair for himself, and lighting up.

“Didn’t know you still smoked,” Harry commented back, motioning towards his hand. Louis shrugged and took a long pull, blowing the smoke out of his nose.  

“Didn’t know you started,” Louis retorted, staying right on beat. Harry laughed softly. Louis glanced out at the rising sun and smiled, the memories of sunsets and sunrises burning a hole in his mind.  

“Couldn’t sleep?” Harry wondered. Louis shrugged.

“Bad dream,” he answered, feeling a pit in his stomach. “Why are you up at the crack of dawn?”

“Been dealing with headaches for years. Woke up with a migraine,” the younger boy answered softly. Louis nodded and let silence fill the void.

It was quiet for some time as the two sat in the morning glow, smoking and watching the sunrise. Louis flicked away the butt of his cigarette and sipped at his coffee slowly, enjoying the time with Harry.

Harry cleared his throat and put out his cigarette.

“Lou, can I ask you something?” Harry asked. Louis took a gulp of his coffee and reached for another cig.

“Is it serious?” Louis replied, his stomach turning in anticipation. Harry shrugged.

“I don’t really know,” Harry answered. “It’s something – I don’t really know how to describe it – it’s just been bothering me since the hospital.”

Louis took a sip of his drink and sat it down beside his chair, turning his attention to Harry. “What’s been on your mind?” Louis wondered.

Harry fumbled with his hands for a moment. “Did you…. I guess, I’m asking, if – well, did you happen to – “

“Hazza, it’s just me here,” Louis spoke, cutting Harry off. Harry sighed and nodded.

“Did you come see me in the hospital?” he asked finally.

Louis inhaled sharply and held his breath. The only one who knew about him going to see Harry was Anne. That was only because she helped him see the boy for a moment. It was brief, so brief that Louis didn’t even want to tell anyone about it. He had to see Harry, if only for a second.

** Bluebonnets (Julia’s Song) – Aaron Watson **

“I keep having this dream, or maybe it’s a memory, I don’t know anymore.”

“Harry – “

“And I really wouldn’t expect you to come see me honestly. I was a piece of shit,” Harry kept talking.

“Hazza,” Louis tried again. The boy shook his head and spoke again.

“Jesus, I’m sorry, I know you probably didn’t – “

“I thought you were unconscious,” Louis spoke loudly.

Harry, the idiot, did not shut up. “It’s just this dream I have about someone telling me to live, and I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t remember – wait, what did you just say?”

Louis chuckled softly gripped Harry’s within his own. “Your mum snuck me in for a few minutes. I got there fifteen minutes before the other boys did. Thought maybe I could see you and feel better. But then the doctors didn’t give you a week, and I really thought you were going to die,” Louis explained.

“Everyone thought I was going to die,” Harry said quietly. Louis rubbed his thumbs over Harry’s hands and scooted his chair closer.

“You didn’t die, Hazza,” Louis said softly. “You’re alive and here in Cardiff with me and the boys. You’re here, you’re clean, and you’re living.”

“Sometimes I feel like that’s all I’m doing. Just… living,” Harry replied.

Louis shook his head and pulled Harry’s hands to his lips gently. “You’re still recovering, Harry. You went through hell in that hospital, and that’s okay. You’re alive. That’s the most important thing, here,” Louis spoke. Harry nodded slowly, but it didn’t seem convincing.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Harry asked. Louis took a moment to collect his thoughts before he responded, feeling it deep in his heart.

“Because I’m tired of fighting with you. You did some shitty things, but I think we have both been through enough shit the past few months.” Louis took a pull from his cigarette and shook his head. “I’m tired, Harry. I’m really fucking tired of missing you when you’re standing right in front of me.”

Harry threw his cigarette to the ground and wiped his face, Louis watching as his bottom lip begins to tremble. “I’d like that a lot,” he replied, finally giving Louis a bright smile.

Louis put out his cigarette and stood, a smile blooming on his face as he reached for Harry’s hand. “Come on, you’re going to get sick without shoes in this weather,” he said pulling the younger boy to his feet. Harry obliged and followed his lead, walking behind Louis into the house.

Inside, the warm air surrounded Louis and warmed his toes. He took a deep breath and turned, feeling a hand grip the back of his shirt, just as Harry fell to the ground in a heap, bumping his head on the metal doorframe. It was slow motion, watching as Harry’s eyes rolled back into his head as he went down, his body bouncing against the hardwood floor.

“Shit,” Louis cursed, bending down to pull Harry inside the house the rest of the way. “Liam! Niall!” he yelled to the house. “Someone wake the fuck up!”

Louis turned his attention to Harry, slapping at his face and listening for his breath. Harry was breathing, so Louis relaxed a bit. That didn’t explain why he passed out.

Liam ran down the stairs with Zayn in tow a moment later.

“God, Louis, did you punch him?” Liam asked, leaning down to tend to Harry.

“The fuck do you think, Liam? He just fucking collapsed!” Louis answered, holding the boy’s head away from the floor. Harry opened his eyes for a split second, Louis’ heart pounding against his chest. “Come on, look at me,” Louis cooed, cupping Harry’s cheek in his hand. He watched as Harry blinked once, twice, three times before shutting once more. “Liam, call the ambulance,” he said quickly, never taking his eyes off Harry.

Liam nodded and rushed off to find his phone, Zayn helping Louis with Harry.

It was all a blur.

 

~

 

_The next evening in a hospital in Cardiff_

 

** Let You Go – Jurrivh   **

“Now listen here, Harry Styles,” Louis whispered, his voice the only noise in the hospital room besides the beeping of Harry’s heart monitor. “I never hated you, Harry. I’m so sorry you lived with that burden all these years. I’m sorry you felt like you had to turn to drugs and alcohol to manage.”

Outside, Niall kept watch at the door in case a nurse came by. Liam and Zayn had disappeared to the nurse’s station to keep them all busy, giving Louis his alone time with Harry.

 “Do you want to know a secret?” Louis asked the silent room. He sniffled loudly and wiped at his eyes. “I remember waking up one morning and finding little notes around the house we had in London. They were just little hello and goodbye notes, notes to tell me you loved me, notes to tell me to pick up eggs and milk. They were short little things. But to me they were everything.

“I got the little ‘h’ tattooed on me hip. It’s small, just like it was on those notes. But it’s there, on my skin like a reminder.” Louis brought Harry’s hand to his lips and pressed a short, chaste kiss against it, a tear falling onto the milky skin. “I loved you so much, Hazza, and I still do love you. None of it made sense, the interviews and the breaking of the contract. I never understood how you could do that to me, to us.  God, Harry, why didn’t you just talk to me?” Louis wondered. “I swear I would have listened to you. I swear, I would have sat down and talked this out.”

Niall stuck his head through the door, a pained look coating his features. “We’ve got nurses coming, boss,” he spoke quietly. Louis nodded and kissed Harry’s hand once more, wiping his tears.

“Give me a minute, yeah?” Niall shut the door again, leaving the two alone. “I love you, Harry. Wake up for me, so we can start this whole thing over.”

 

 

~

_Later_

 

It was another few hours before Harry finally woke up. Louis and the other boys had taken turns going to the nurse’s station and asking questions, trying to get any information out of them when they could. Louis found himself sitting beside Harry’s bed, his hand gripping tightly onto Harry’s, when he heard the monitor fluctuate, coming to life again. He glanced at the monitor before he heard his boy speak.

“Lou,” Harry croaked. Louis snapped his head up in surprise and sighed heavily with relief when he looked down to find Harry’s eyes open.

“Oh, thank god,” he said, edging closer to the boy.  “Fuck, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.” Louis leaned forward and kissed the back of Harry’s hand. “I’m going to get a nurse, alright?” he said softly. As he stood, Harry tightened his grip and pulled Louis back to the bed.

“Stay, please?” he whimpered. Louis nodded and pulled out his phone.

“Hey, get a nurse to the room, yeah?” Louis spoke into the receiver. On the other line, Liam gasped. “He’s awake,” he added quickly. After getting the affirmative from the others, Louis ended the call and put his phone away. He reached up and brushed some curls away from Harry’s face. “I missed you,” Louis whispered.

“Missed you more,” Harry replied gently. Louis smiled and stood over the bed, kissing Harry’s forehead. He could feel tears threatening to fall, the familiar ache in his jaw returning.

About that time, a nurse waltzed into the room, Liam, Niall, and Zayn in tow.

“Good afternoon, sweet pea,” she said soothingly. Louis sat back down next to Harry and soothed out his fringe. “How’re you feeling, love?” she asked.

“Been better,” Harry answered. Louis grinned and watched as the nurse ran tests on his boy.

She smiled and looked at the notes on her clipboard she carried. “Do you know why you’re here?” Harry shook his head. “I heard you had quite the accident a couple of weeks ago, yes?” Harry nodded at her words. Louis tightened his hand around Harry’s as a reassuring presence. “Harry, Louis told us you’ve been dealing with some headaches. Said you took something the morning of your fall for a migraine?”

 Louis watched as Harry nodded slowly again. “Just took some pain relievers.”

The nurse jotted the information down and turned to Louis and Harry. “I’ll have the doctor come in and explain some things for you. We’ve got you on a saline drip right now to re-hydrate your body, seeing as you were quite dehydrated before. If you have any pain, let me know, alright love?”

Louis and Harry gave her a knowing nod, sending her off.

“Did I hit my head?” Harry asked. Louis gave a look to the other boys in the room before turning back to Harry.

Louis gave him a small smile. “When you fell, you hit the door frame, which probably did more damage than anything else.”  

“Sure does hurt like hell,” Harry complained. “How long have I been out?”

“Just for a few hours,” Louis replied. He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at the other boys. “We’ve been taking turns having a go at the nurses to see when we can take you back home.”

Niall snorted. “The nurses here don’t tell us anything. At least at Hopkins, they gave us a little work with.”

“Paying them to find out whether or not Harry could eat fast food doesn’t count, idiot,” Liam argued. Louis chuckled at the two boys, then turned his attention back to Harry.

“Are you in pain?” he asked Harry, concern dripping through his tone. The boy rubbed a spot on his head and gave Louis a pout, his bottom lip sticking out just so. “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” he snuffled. Harry gave him a pathetic grin and nodded.

 “Louis,” Harry said as the older boy was reaching for the nurse’s button.

“Yes, Harold,” Louis answered.

“I’m sorry.”

Louis snapped his gaze towards Harry. “What for?”

“If I worried you,” Harry finished. Louis shook his head and leaned forward, like he was ready to share the world’s secrets.

“Don’t apologize to me for something like this, Harry,” Louis said. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” His bottom lip trembled before he could stop it, and suddenly, he felt the tension snap around him. Tears fell down his cheeks and there was nothing he could to make them go away.

“Now, don’t start that shit,” Harry whined.

“Thought something was really wrong,” Louis said. “Not like before, but like proper wrong. You didn’t look right at all when they brought you in.”

“Did the doctors say anything?”

“Nothing more than the nurse did just now,” Louis spoke. Harry groaned quietly.

It took another forty minutes before the doctor came in and explained everything to Harry and Louis. Apparently, the medicine Harry took reacted badly with his daily medication, and caused him to have some kind of allergic reaction. That, mixed with his already fragile immune system caused him to lose consciousness. The doctor said he would have been alright if he hadn’t taken whatever he found in the cabinet. Louis made a mental note to toss those tablets out once they all got back home.

After speaking with the doctor, Harry agreed to stay one extra night just to be sure everything was alright. He didn’t mind staying, honestly, because it meant he had pain medicine on the ready in case his head hurt, and he had all the boys doing whatever he’d ask. Louis remained on the side of the bed for hours. He never moved, unless to go to the bathroom or fetch the nurse.

** Be Together – Jurrivh  **

At two a.m. the next morning, Louis startled awake when Harry reached for his hand. He wiped the sleep away from his eyes and tried to make himself wake up.

“What do you need?” Louis asked. “Water? Are you in pain?”

Harry smiled softly. “No, just admiring,” he replied, cupping the side of Louis’s cheek. “Missed you,” he added.

Louis leaned in to Harry’s touch. “Missed you too, curly. Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Too uncomfortable with these wires in my arm,” Harry said, moving his right arm around to try and shake the aching feeling that radiated from his shoulder to his fingertips.

Louis nodded in understanding and reached for his pillow that sat abandoned in the chair he occupied. He put the pillow next to Harry. “Want a cuddle?” he wondered.

Harry watched with anticipation, studying his features. Finally, he nodded and tried to move over to let Louis have enough room.  

When Louis deemed himself comfortable, he held one arm open and let Harry shuffle into his embrace, tucking his head under Louis’ chin and sighing contently.

It wasn’t long before Louis heard little whimpered cries coming from the boy.

“Hey, love, what’s wrong?” he questioned, rubbing his thumb across Harry’s cheekbones.

The boy shook his head and burrowed deeper into Louis’ shirt. “Just really fucking happy,” he cried.

Louis wrapped both of his arms around Harry and inhaled his scent, memorizing each detail. “I think I’m always going to love you, Hazza,” Louis said.

Harry let out a choked sob, winding his arms around Louis’ waist. “I’m always going to love you too.”

The two fell asleep wrapped around each other, Harry’s cries dying out into deep sighs, Louis never once loosening his grip.

 

~

 

“Let me take one picture,” Zayn whispered the next morning. Liam snatched his phone away and shoved in his pocket, opening the door to the hospital room and motioning out into the hallway.

“Nope, let’s go get breakfast.”

“I won’t post it, I swear!” Zayn argued. Liam shook his head and pulled him out the door.

“No.”

“You’re no fucking fun anymore,” Zayn snipped as he was whisked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> just a reminder to keep on the lookout for trigger warnings and whatnot. those will be coming shortly within the next few chapters. 
> 
> i love you all sooooooooooooooo much xxxxx


	10. part two chapter ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so.....  
> As many of you can see, the tags of this story have changed. Right now, I have decided to go ahead and change the ending. I do have to warn you, by changing the ending, the trajectory of the plot will change as well. For those of you who have read the original PMLAF, you'll know what happens, and how the ending is written. That will change. Because I'm going to be changing the ending, there will be certain details that are going to change as well. 
> 
> I do want to thank two of my lovely readers, Bella and Katie. Bella, thank you for being honest with me in what you think of this story. I appreciate your candor more than you know. Katie, I am so proud of you for sitting down and writing. You are incredibly talented, and I hope to see your work sitting on a shelf at a book store one day. I'm dedicating this chapter to you two beautiful people. Thank you for giving me inspiration and helping this process. 
> 
> Another quick thank you to my beta, Megan. I love you so much. Thank you for putting up with me during this, and giving me pointers. I honestly don't think I would be doing this editing right now if it wasn't for you, let alone writing it for the first time. I love you more than you know, and am so thankful you put up with me and my crazed messages, my possible song choices, and plot ideas. Thank you, Meg, you beautiful human. ilysm. 
> 
> Now, getting into chapter 10! This chapter finally gets into the real plotting of PMLAF; cancer. I include this as a trigger warning because I want my readers to be aware of what they're getting in to. The mentions will be at the end, and technically, they don't even know anything about it yet. I'm going to let you know in the notes of each chapter when and where things will be mentioned. Keep in mind, this is a fictional work; none of the thoughts and ideas the characters have are real; fuck, none of this is real lol. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Songs Used In Chapter 10  
> Tough - Lewis Capaldi  
> Dancing in the Moonlight - Toploader  
> Wake Me Up - Ed Sheeran  
> Time Moves Quickly - Noah Gundersen

The next few days where a blur. Harry was sent home with strict instructions on his medications. Louis cringed at the list he was given of things Harry could not eat/take. It made his stomach turn at the thought of not being able to help his boy.

After the group got home from the hospital, they all made sure to cater to Harry’s ever need. Liam was the worst, Louis decided one morning. Harry had accidentally slipped in the shower because of his bad leg, and Liam got an eyeful when he ran in to check on the poor boy. Harry didn’t come out of his room for hours that day, embarrassed that Liam even had to see any of it. Louis cuddled with him all afternoon as a treat, and even brought him ice cream.

 At some point over the following days, Louis found Harry sitting outside smoking a cigarette, something he had been doing more of recently. Louis grabbed his own and a blanket from the back of the couch, opening the door softly as to not disturb his boy. When Harry noticed him, he offered a smile.

“Hey, babe,” Louis said, draping the blanket around Harry’s shoulders and sitting beside him. “Needed a break from everyone?”

Harry snuffled a laugh and nodded. “Feels like I can’t get away from them,” Harry laughed. Louis lit up his cigarette and blew the smoke out his nose.

“Being on tour was the worst with all of us together,” Louis spoke. “He’s a good kid, but fucking ‘ell, Liam makes me want to strangle him sometimes.”

“I’ll second that,” Harry replied. “I had an idea, actually.”

Louis lifted his eyebrows and focused his attention. “Is it cheeky?” he wondered. Harry chuckled and nodded. “I’m in, curls. What have we got?” he grinned, scooting his chair closer to his boy. Harry flicked away his cigarette and leaned in, whispering to Louis his plan of action.

Two hours later, Louis parked the car in front of his favorite tattoo parlor in Cardiff, hopping out and helping Harry out of the passenger seat. The two boys escaped the house when all three boys knocked out for a nap. Harry snuck outside to start the car, Louis going through the home and making sure each boy was asleep. Louis offered Harry a hand as he climbed out of the car, kissing the tip of Louis’ nose. Harry held a wide grin, wrapping his arms around himself and shivering in the cold.

“C’mon, sneaky little shit,” Louis teased. Harry giggled and followed him into the shop.

“Holy shit, Tommo! What the fuck are you doing back here?” a voice called through the shop. Louis spun on his heels and came face to face with his artist, Cal. “Come to get more ink?”

Louis pulled Cal into his arms, hugging him tightly before patting him on the back. “Not for me today, actually,” he answered, gesturing towards Harry. “I have someone else wanting something though.”

Cal turned to Harry and lifted his eyebrows questioningly. “So, this is your boy, then?” the man wondered. Louis felt his stomach twist in a way that made his knees weak. He was just about to correct him, when Harry stepped forward and offered his hand.

“Harry Styles,” he smiled, shaking Cal’s hand.

“Harry Styles, coming to my little old shop, no one would believe it,” Cal laughed.

“Well, let’s make sure to take enough pictures to prove it, then,” Harry replied.

** Tough – Lewis Capaldi  **

After getting everything set up, Harry gave Cal a piece of paper that held his tattoo design on it. He made Louis sit far enough away that he could see what the tattoo would be before he was done. So, Louis sat in a chair across the room until it was safe to venture closer. Still, he wasn’t allowed to see what it looked like – Harry’s wishes.

When it was finally finished, Cal wiped over the bit of skin, and let Harry look down. Louis watched as his face broke out into a wide smile, his eyes misting over with tears. Only Harry would get emotional about tattoos.

“Can I see it yet?” Louis asked happily. Harry turned to face him, lifting his shirt and exposing the skin near his laurels. “Oh, Hazza,” Louis whispered.

Right underneath one of the laurels, in black ink, sat two letters: LT, tattooed in Louis’ handwriting.

Louis glanced back up at Harry and rushed to him, throwing his arms around the boy’s neck, tears falling down his cheeks despite himself.

“Alright you two, no fucking in my shop,” Cal spoke behind them, cleaning up his workstation. When he disappeared behind the curtain, Louis turned to Harry and brushed away the boy’s tears.

“You heard what I said in the hospital?” Louis wondered, holding Harry’s face between his hands.

Harry shrugged. “I could hear bits and pieces. Thought it was a dream until you took your shirt off one night. Saw the little ‘h’ right there on your skin,” he answered, poking at Louis’ tattoo for emphasis.

Louis rested his head on Harry’s chest and kissed him through the fabric of his tee shirt. “It’s permanent,” he said softly.

“So is yours.”

“I remember our first tattoo we got together.”

“I remember what I told you that night,” Harry said.

“I remember what I did to you that night,” Louis giggled.

“Lou.”

“Harold.”

“Can we go home now?”

Louis looked up at his boy, smiling happily at their day. He nodded and kissed Harry’s cheek, already pulling him towards the door.

~

“And just where the fuck have you two been?” Liam screeched as he yanked both boys inside the house.

 “Relax, Liam, I took him out with me for a bit,” Louis replied, rubbing the spot on his arm where Liam had a death grip. Zayn appeared from around the corner, sighing heavily.

“Fucking – Niall, call off the search party,” Zayn called, rubbing his face with both of his hands and groaning loudly. “Do you realize we’ve called the hospitals in Cardiff, Holmes Chapel, and London? We didn’t know where the fuck you went.”

Harry pushed Liam away and cuddled up against Louis’ side. “I’m fine. We’re both fine. We went out for some fresh air,” he explained, rubbing his thumb into Louis’ back.

Louis nodded and wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist. “Nothing happened to us, alright?” Louis sighed. “I’m fine. Harry’s fine. There’s no need to call the cavalry.”

Liam inhaled and exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just – just tell us next time, yeah?” he requested.

“Promise,” Louis and Harry said at the same time. Liam sighed heavily and pulled the two in for a hug. He retreated into the living room again to join Niall and Zayn.

“Go shower! You two smell like a tattoo shop,” he called over his shoulder. Louis looked over at Harry and snorted, causing Harry to giggle.

** Dancing in the Moonlight – Toploader  **

Before they got caught, Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and lead him upstairs, into his bedroom. Once inside, Louis toed off his shoes and helped Harry out of his shoe and walking boot. After shoes, Louis stripped the both of them of their jackets and scarves, dropping to the floor.

Louis stepped closer to Harry and wound his arms around the boy’s neck. “You are one beautiful specimen, Harry Styles,” Louis whispered. He slipped his fingers through the hair at the base of Harry’s neck, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin there, smirking as the boy’s skin erupted in goosebumps.

“You’re one to talk,” Harry replied with a happy smile. Louis smiled and leaned forward just a touch, tilting his head slightly. He could feel the way Harry’s hands landed on his hips and shook, his pulse quickening under Louis’ touch.

“Are you…. Are we going to kiss now?” Harry asked sheepishly. Louis laughed out loud, keeping his face close to Harry’s. He leaned his forehead on the younger boy’s, standing on the very tips of his toes and

“Are you quite finished?” Louis teased. Harry nodded slightly and closed the gap, pulling Louis closer to his boy by his hips. Louis let his mouth move with Harry’s, the boy’s plush lips soft against his own. Finally, Harry pulled away, Louis chasing his mouth with a smile.

“Louis?” Harry asked softly.

“Yes?”

“Can we sleep now?” Harry inquired weakly. Louis finally opened his eyes to peer up at his boy, noticing the dark circles around his eyes and the sunken in cheekbones. He leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss to Harry’s mouth, Louis smiling at the content sigh Harry breathed.

Louis pulled away again and took Harry’s hand between his, leading him to the bed. He folded the covers down the bed and waited for Harry to slide in bed, bringing the duvet back around his shoulders. Once Louis climbed in, Harry shuffled over and cuddled up close to him, wrapping his arms around his waist with his head on Louis’ chest. Louis waited until he heard Harry’s soft snore to fall asleep, dreaming of oceans and falling in love slowly. Harry dreamt of fast cars and making love to Louis sweetly under the starlit sky.

 

~

 

The next morning, Louis woke up before Harry and traveled downstairs to make tea. In living room, Louis found Liam and Zayn cuddled together on the sofa with Niall nowhere in sight. Louis rolled his eyes at his mates and continued into the kitchen, brewing a kettle of tea and pouring it into two mugs. He walked back to his bedroom carefully, making sure he wouldn’t spill.  

Back in his room, Louis kicked open the ajar door to see Harry sitting up and pouting at Louis’ empty space in bed. “Good morning, love,” Louis spoke, earning Harry’s gaze and a happy smile when the boy realized he was just downstairs. He handed Harry his mug and climbed back under the sheets, cuddling up to his boy. “Sleep alright?”

Harry nodded and sipped at his drink. “Thank you,” Harry said. “Thought you left this morning.”

Louis took a gulp and sat it down on his bedside table. “Never leaving,” Louis replied.

Harry shrugged and leaned his head on Louis’ shoulder. “Do you have anything planned for today?” Harry asked. Louis took Harry’s mug and placed it beside his, pulling Harry in to cuddle.

“I think the boys want to go driving around the city, if you wanted to go,” Louis said quietly while he carded his hands through Harry’s hair.

“I want to go out to dinner,” Harry whispered. Louis glanced down at him, noticing that the boy’s gaze was anywhere else but on him.

“A dinner for all of us, or a dinner for….”

“A dinner….date. Yeah,” Harry breathed, “a dinner date. Just us.”

Louis molded his hand against Harry’s cheek and guided his face to look at him. He leaned down and captured Harry’s lips within his. “I’ll make a phone call,” Louis smiled when they pulled apart.

“Sounds perfect,” Harry sighed. “But do that later. I want to cuddle a little more first.” 

“Anything for you, sunshine,” Louis giggled, snuggling closer and pecking the tip of Harry’s nose.

  

 

~ 

 

_8:38 p.m. at a restaurant in Cardiff_

 

Harry and Louis sat in the car, waiting for the valet to come for them. The paps had swarmed their car, snapping pictures and yelling at them for answers. On the ride to the restaurant, Louis kept his hand over Harry’s thigh, protectively. When they arrived, and seeing the flashing cameras, he quickly withdrew his hand. Harry whined, making Louis laugh. But Harry needed Louis’s touch to feel calm. And now that they were being photographed, he needed it even more.

They finally pulled up and climbed out of the car after about twenty minutes, walking into the restaurant, keeping very close to each other.

Louis was the first to make it in, asking for a booth in the very back of the place. The host called the two of them by name, which Harry didn’t question. He led them to the back and sat them far away from the public and any windows.

Harry took a deep breath and sipped on the water that they were given. “Thank fuck the host gods are willing to get us back here.”

Louis nodded in agreement. “I may or may not have called beforehand so they’d have this table ready for us,” Louis explained. “Just in case it got too crazy outside, we could hurry in and escape.”

“Thank god for you then,” Harry said, changing his answer.

“Wonder what tomorrow’s headline will say,” Louis laughed, opening his menu and browsing options.

Harry was silent. Louis didn’t blame him. In all honestly, Louis didn’t even want to think about it. They’d hidden themselves from the media for the most part, aside from the little outings when going to the shops or to pick up dinner. Louis got in touch with his manager and requested more time off, allotting that time to Harry and spending as much of it with him as Louis could. The boys mentioned going back home, seeing as though both Harry and Louis were doing much better. Harry smiled when they talked to him about it, giving them the encouragement they needed to go back home.

** Wake Me Up – Ed Sheeran  **

They ate dinner in peace, talking about different things as time went on. Louis told Harry about a possible album coming in the summer. He gave Harry little lyrics from some of the songs, earning a bright smile from the boy. Harry told Louis stories of Gemma, the trip to Cardiff, and the time he spent with his mom. He told Louis about the troubles he still had, struggling to stay clean and want to stay clean. Louis simply reached across the table and took the boys hand, kissing over his knuckles and promising his support.

Later, after dinner, Harry and Louis went to order dessert, but were informed that it was already taken care of. Louis glanced over at Harry, but watched as he shrugged and furrowed his eyebrows together.

When it was finally brought out to them, Louis laughed loudly before covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry gasped once he saw it, covering his face with his hands. “Fucking ‘ell, this definitely has been a night to remember,” Louis giggled, pulling Harry’s hands away from his face. Harry seemed to be blushing from the tip of his nose, all the way down to his collarbones.

“Did you tell them about this?” Harry asked.

The dessert in question was a chocolate raspberry cake, topped with chocolate cream on top, and two scoops of raspberry sorbet. It was a delicious piece that had Louis and Harry stuffed full. Louis shook his head, sharing that same smile. “I guess the chef remembered our orders,” he giggled, picking up a spoon and dipping it into the gooey chocolate cream.

“Do you remember that night?” Harry inquired, getting a small spoonful of the sorbet and cake.

Louis groaned and covered his face. “How could I forget? Our first actual date and you shoved sorbet down my throat.”

Harry giggled softly and got another spoonful, holding it near Louis’s mouth. “You told everyone I tried to kill you, you tit.” Louis took the contents of Harry’s spoon with a happy groan.

“Yes,” Louis said swallowing, “because you almost did.”

The debacle was something the two boys would fight about with high giggles and champagne kisses over the years. For their first date, Louis planned out the entire night. Dinner, dessert, and then, the big question. No, not marriage, but for Louis it felt that big. Near the end of the date, Louis slid over an envelope with two plane tickets to New York, and a question attached.

**_Come to New York with your Boyfriend?_ **

Unfortunately, Harry had just picked up a spoonful to feed Louis when he opened the envelope. His eyes bulged, and a spoon was shoved down Louis throat. 

“I was trying to be cute,” Harry defended. Louis rolled his eyes and took a big bite of the cake.

“By choking me?”

“Now, don’t say it like that.”

Louis flicked a piece of chocolate at Harry’s face. “I asked you to be my boyfriend that night,” he whispered fondly, the corners of his mouth trying not to turn up into a smile.

“Ah, yes, the big question,” Harry replied, taking a sip of his water.

“Don’t take the piss, I’m being serious,” Louis retorted. Harry swallowed another bite as he waited. “I remember asking the chef for a dessert that would be special because I knew what I was doing that night.”

“You told me you didn’t know what you were doing at all,” Harry said loudly.

“I meant asking you to be my boyfriend!” Louis yelled.

“You looked pretty confident.”

“Yes, until someone shoved that spoon – “

“Say one more thing about the spoon and you’ll regret it,” Harry warned, pointing his spoon at Louis with a menacing grin.

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” Louis winked.

Harry laughed softly and put his spoon down, reaching across the table to take Louis’ hand. “I missed you,” the younger boy said. Louis felt his features soften as he looked at his boy, feeling every emotion wash over his body.

He wanted Harry. He wanted to be with Harry. In the past, Louis scrutinized over every small detail that led them to that moment. The pain. The tears. The drugs. The alcohol. The overdose. The fear of losing the one you loved. Louis forgot all of that fear as soon as he looked into Harry’s eyes.

In that moment, Louis wanted nothing more than to be able to love his boy.

“Hazza,” Louis whispered, rubbing his thumbs across the boy’s knuckles.

“Lewis.”

Louis scowled. “Be with me,” he stated. “Be with me.”

The boy in question stopped what he was doing and stopped breathing. He looked at Louis with fear written in his eyes. Louis murmured a quiet _please_ , and that was all it took. Harry gave him a bright smile and leaned forward over the table, whispering, “I’d love to.”

 

~

 

_2:43 the next morning_

 

 

It was early. That was all Louis could register when he felt his bed shift in weight. He opened his bleary eyes and rubbed the sleep away, sitting up and turning to where he left Harry sleeping just hours before. Louis reached for Harry, pouting when his hand brushed against the warm sheet. Searching around the room, he found no trace of his boyfriend.

Oh.

_Oh._

So that wasn’t a dream.

Louis smiled despite himself and snuffled a short laugh, feeling his stomach twirl and heart flutter at the thought. His skin itched from where Harry had touched him the night before, kissing him gently and touching him like the fire on the sun. Louis lifted a hand to a specific bruise he remembered Harry slaving over, pinning Louis’ arms over his head and straddling his waist, sucking and biting, essentially driving Louis absolutely bonkers.

** Time Moves Quickly – Noah Gundersen **

It wasn’t until Louis could hear the choked off retches coming from the bathroom, he broke out of his trance and scrambled out of bed, padding over to the bathroom door. He knocked once, cringing when he hurt a loud gag.

“Love, open the door for me, yeah?” Louis spoke, his heart racing. “Let me help you.”

“Fuck,” Harry groaned, one more awful sounding noise and Harry emptied his stomach contents in the toilet.

“C’mon babe, just let me in for a mo,” Louis insisted, sighing in relief as the bathroom lock clicked and the door opened only slightly. He made his way into the room, grabbing a washcloth and shoving it into the sink, turning the cool water on it. Louis then turned to Harry, feeling his heart break for his boy.  “Baby boy,” he cooed, tucking a curl away from Harry’s forehead behind his ear. “What happened?” he asked.  

Harry flushed the toilet once more for good measure and sat back on his behind, curling his knees to his chest and leaning against the cabinet behind him. “Might have been dinner. Don’t know, really,” Harry replied. Louis pulled the rag out of the water and rung it out, slapping it against the side of the bowl. He handed it over to Harry who took it with a grateful smile. Afterward, Louis sat on the tile floor and pulled Harry underneath his arm, cuddling him in close.

“Does anything else hurt?” Louis questioned. Harry shrugged and snuggled closer to Louis, resting his head on his chest.

“My head feels like it’s going to explode; or implode. Either one would feel better than this,” he replied with a sigh. Louis made a mental note to call the doctor in the morning.

“Can I do anything for you? Do you want to go back to bed?”

Harry seemed to consider, but ultimately turned Louis turn with a shake of his head. A moment later, he perked up, turning to Louis, “A smoke would be nice.”

“Sure that’s a good idea?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded. Louis climbed off the floor and held his hands out, helping Harry to his feet. Once steady, Louis walked with Harry back to the bedroom where they dressed, Harry slower than Louis, and left the bedroom, making sure to grab cigarettes on their way out of the house.

Outside, Harry lit up a cigarette and puffed on it slowly. Louis watched him take small drags, followed by longer drags, before blowing the smoke out of his nose. He watched Harry grimace when he burped quietly; mentally figuring out how quickly he could get to the grass if he needed to vomit again. When Louis noticed Harry starting to pale, he grabbed Harry’s cigarette and threw it down on the ground, pulling over to the lawn just as he expelled the rest of whatever was in his stomach.

 “Baby,” Louis whispered as he guided his boyfriend to sit back down. “I’m calling the doctors in the morning.”  

“No more doctors. I’ve seen enough of them for a few years,” he replied.  

Louis just shook his head. “Harry, you could have an infection –“

“Louis, I said I don’t want to see any doctors,” Harry snapped. Louis kept his mouth closed after that. Instead of pushing Harry, Louis sat back and watched him smoke another two cigarettes, vomit once more, and eventually go back inside the house once he started to shiver.

Harry slept for six hours before he was sick again. After that, it happened every few hours.

He still refused to see a doctor.  

Liam and Zayn flew home to deal with their record labels and management teams a few days after. It was an emotional argument, Harry insisting the two go back to their lives, with tears being the only argument Liam or Zayn could think of. On the fourth day, Harry moved a blanket and pillow into the bathroom and slept in the bathtub. The sixth, Harry mentioned how he wanted to go home and clean his house and how bad he felt that he and the other boys were intruding on Louis’s life. Louis shushed him quickly, but handed him a bucket before he threw up again, seeing the color drain from Harry’s face, this time only white bile and clear fluids coming up.

Niall left on the seventh, hugging Harry for thirty minutes before he actually got up and traveled out to the waiting car that had been called for him. Harry cried for the rest of the afternoon, claiming he had been holding everyone back from moving on.

Louis held him tighter and promised him that wasn’t true.

The three doctors he allowed Louis to take him to all promised there was nothing wrong with the poor boy. They gave him something to help with the nausea and headaches, even a prescription to help him sleep at night.

Louis cried that night and prayed to a god he didn’t believe in to send help to his boy.

Louis remembered stories about Harry as a child. When Harry was little, he was used to getting sick often with stomach bugs and food poisoning. He never knew what caused it, but knew it eventually stopped happening. His mother had a cabinet full of medicine to make the vomiting stop, and Harry frequented the cabinet often. Harry almost had to repeat a year in school because of how much he missed, but after his mum cursed at one of the head masters, they passed him without missing a beat.

Now, with Harry lying face down on the tile floor of Louis’s bathroom, Louis wished Harry’s mum could come see him. He wished Anne could help him take care of their favorite boy. After he got Harry to get some sleep, Louis hatched a plan to call Anne.

Louis led Harry to the bed, letting him lay down and covering him with the bed sheets. Once Harry was comfortable, he drifted off to sleep, Louis smiling as soft snores flittered in the room.

Louis took the blanket down to the laundry room and threw it into the washing machine along with some of Harry’s other clothes that were dirty. Louis returned to the bedroom to find Harry fast asleep. He brushed the curls away from the boy’s flushed face and went to the hallway. He left the door open so he could hear Harry if he needed to. Louis then pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number to Anne.

Twenty minutes later, a plan was set in motion with Harry’s mum. Louis payed for the flight and arranged for a car to pick her up once she arrived in the city. It was an unspoken rule to bring Gemma, seeing as she’d probably hang Louis’ balls on the mantle otherwise.

After called Anne, Louis hung up and called his 24/7 doctor, offering him to pay him triple if he could come to Louis’ home.  

The doctor arrived an hour later and followed Louis to the bedroom. Harry was awake again, and forcing down some soup that Louis make him eat so he had something on his stomach.  

“Harry, this is Dr. Molux. I called him to come here,” Louis explained, ushering the man into the room, inching closer to his boyfriend, who looked ready to kill him.  

“I told you, no doctors,” Harry said, putting the soup down and crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.  

“Harry, it’s nice to meet you,” Dr. Molux greeted, holding his hand out for Harry to shake. When Harry didn’t acknowledge him, he carried on with introductions. “Louis told me a little bit about what’s been happening, but I need to know a little bit more from you.”

Harry was silent. He didn’t look at the doctor, nor did he look at Louis. Instead, he found him staring at the ground and fiddling with his hands.

“He’s going to help you, Harry,” Louis spoke bravely. He sat down next to Harry on the bed and reached for his hands, bringing them to his lips to kiss the back of them. “No more doctors after he leaves, no more,” he promised. Harry finally glanced up at him and rolled his eyes, groaning.  

“I’m going to do what I can for you, Harry, but I need you to help me first,” Molux said. Harry nodded to Louis and turned to the doctor, holding out his hand. Molux smiled and shook it.

“I had an accident. I’m sure I can get my doctors to send you the history. But I’ve had headaches for as long as I can remember,” Harry explained. “There’s so much more but that’s all that I can think of right now.”

Molux nodded and opened his clipboard to write down some notes. “I had the hospital send me over the file so I knew what was happening, Mr. Styles. Now, can you tell me more about your head aches?”

Harry fish mouthed for a minute but settled when Louis’ hand landed around Harry’s waist. “They hurt here most the time,” Harry said, pointing to the crown of his head and trailing all the way to the nape of his neck. “Other times it hurts all over. Feels like my entire head is going to implode.”

“Hazza, tell him about your neck pain,” Louis blurted, ignoring the boy’s irritated look.

Harry rolled his eyes. “My neck has been hurting too, but I think that’s because of the vomiting and weird sleeping habits.”

“He’s been complaining of neck pain that probably causes the headaches,” Louis said for him. Harry gave Louis a death glare. “What? If you’re going to get better, you have to tell him everything.”

“I’m going to give you something that will stop the vomiting, and something for the neck pain. I also want you to go in for an MRI of your neck and a check on your throat. Prolonged vomiting can potentially damage the lining if your esophagus. It’s very common for those who suffer from bulimia,” Molux explained. “I just want to be sure it’s not affecting that portion of your body.”

Dr. Molux did a routine check of Harry’s body. Taking his temperature, checking his tonsils, and checking his blood pressure. His fever was still high, but other than that, the doctor said he looked good. When he went to look at Harry’s neck, he stopped talking and began feeling around the skin near his spine.

“Harry, have you ever noticed tension on the back of your neck?” the doctor asked softly.

Harry didn’t say anything while he thought. Louis waited for Harry to answer, but no words came out of his mouth. Harry shook his head slowly and reached for Louis. Louis nodded and squeezed his hands.

“Define tension,” Louis said.

“It’s like the muscles of your neck are constantly under stress. Think of it like someone who’s working out. They lift a weight with their arm, and the muscles in their biceps flex under the stress of the weight. That’s how you’re neck feels under the skin,” Molux responded. Harry shook his head again, followed by Louis. “Right, I’m going to schedule an MRI tomorrow morning. You need to go, Harry. It may be nothing, but we’d rather be safe than sorry.”

The doctor left after giving Louis the prescription notes. Louis walked him out, leaving Harry alone, laying in bed. When Louis got back to the room, Harry was close to tears. He shut the door and climbed into bed, cradling Harry in his arms. “We’ll get this figured out, sunshine,” Louis said surely, even if his heart wasn’t in it. Harry leaned into his body, resting his head on Louis’s chest.

Louis could feel Harry trying not to cry. He could sense the way his body tensed and his jaw flicked against Louis’ chest. Harry tried not to cry. He tried as hard as he could.

In the end, Louis ran his hands through Harry’s hair and kissed him softly on the forehead, opening the floodgates to Harry’s tears.

Louis simply held Harry closer.

 


	11. part two chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER. MAJOR, MAJOR TW : cancer, mentions of cancer, mentions of treatment, mentions of vomit, mentions of dark thoughts, mentions of drug use and dealing with wanting to use again, cancer. I cannot stress this enough. This story is dark, and can be hard to read at some points. Please, be aware of tags and mentions before going into this chapter blindly. You'll want to really make sure you know what you're going to read. 
> 
> Hello all! I want to thank you for the kudos and comments. Even those of you who I've been in touch with through email and Tumblr. Again, this story would not be happening without my lovely readers and beta, Meg. I love you meg. you make my heart happy and im so glad i have you in my life. 
> 
> This chapter really gets into Harry being sick, and why he is sick. You'll notice there are medical inaccuracies which is totally fine. I did my research on this topic pretty thoroughly; however, there were some things I had to make up on my own because I could not find the answer. Please don't judge me for the lack of knowledge on this particular topic. 
> 
> Before I do the regular chapter note details, I want to stress this one more time. This chapter deals heavily with cancer and related topics. It gets pretty dark at some point, so I really need you to read the tags, the warnings, and be wary of what's written. My biggest fear, which I've stated before, is to trigger one of my readers. Please read with caution, and if you need anything at all, please contact me. My information is just below and it is always open for messages or asks. 
> 
> Social Media  
> Wattpad @pmlafofficial  
> Twitter @pmlafofficial  
> Instagram @kait.wright  
> Tumblr @alwaysandforeverlou  
> Email @kaitmichelle97@yahoo.com 
> 
> Songs Used in Chapter 11   
> I Can’t Stop Loving You – Ardhito Pramono

_9:04 AM in the medical office of Dr. Lustine_

 

“One in a fucking million,” Harry repeated for the seventh time. Harry couldn’t form any other words. His body wouldn’t let him. “One in a million, Lou,” Harry whispered. Louis shook his head and refused to acknowledge Harry’s words.

The two men were alone in the room, left alone for a moment to process the news. Louis couldn’t find anything to describe the way he was feeling. He couldn’t find any words or any hand motion to use. He simply couldn’t. His heart wasn’t racing, and he didn’t feel like crying. He couldn’t figure out what to do or say at that very moment. All he could do was hold onto Louis while he cried into Harry’s curls.

It couldn’t be true. Louis knew it couldn’t happen to his boy. He just got Harry back, just started loving him again and now this? Louis cried for Harry’s pain, knowing he had been through so much the past few years. He had absolutely no idea how Harry was going to survive this, and that scared the living daylights out of Louis.

His neck pain wasn’t just neck pain.

His migraines weren’t just migraines.

Harry didn’t have a virus at all.

Harry was sicker than they thought.

Chordoma. A bone cancer in the sarcoma family that occurs in the base of the skull, and down to the base of the spine. The cancer was a very rare form of bone cancer that was diagnosed in three hundred people in the USA per year. Out of all the people in the country, and only three hundred of those people found themselves in Harry’s shoes. The cancer was one that normally occurred in people, particularly men, ages 30 and up. For some reason, Harry had it, and none of the doctors knew why. At his age, he wouldn’t have had symptoms. But here he was, sitting in the office. Louis cursed the gods above.

 Dr. Lustine came back to the room after knocking twice on the door. Her face was somber, pained at giving out the news. Louis pulled away from Harry and stood his ground beside the boy, holding his hand tightly.

“I can answer any questions you may have,” Lustine promised, setting her file folder aside on the counter. She took a seat on the stool and rolled an extra chair over to Louis’ feet, beckoning him to sit.

He glanced down at the chair and kicked it away. “How is it treated?” Louis asked for Harry, somehow knowing the boy wasn’t going to be able to say anything anytime soon.

“First, we will perform surgery through the nasal cavities because the tumors are on the base of the skull. We must take an aggressive approach, seeing as if the tumors are not completely removed, there is a chance for recurrence later on. After the surgery, there will be proton therapy, along with needing to do a few rounds of radiation,” the doctor explained, her voice steady and unwavering. Louis glanced over to Harry and felt his heart swell.

Harry looked… Well, Harry looked broken. His eyes were red and irritated, cheeks puffy and swollen from crying. His face was sunken in from the weight loss. The boy’s curls looked thin and flat. Louis’ boy looked nothing like Harry. He looked nothing like himself in that moment.

Louis kissed the back of Harry’s hand, sitting on the very edge of the bed and pulling Harry closer to his body.  

“How bad will it be?” Louis inquired.

“Chordoma cancers have to be treated with high levels of radiation because they are so threatening,” she replied. “However, with each treatment, we can also give Harry something to take the edge off.”

From beside him, Louis felt Harry’s breath hitch in his throat. “I don’t want to throw up anymore,” Harry whimpered, his voice breaking.

Louis rubbed his hand over Harry’s arm and kissed his curls, the kiss lingering. He could feel the way Harry’s body trembled.

“Please tell me there’s something stronger he can take,” Louis begged, turning his attention back to Lustine. “Doctors even said that prolonged vomiting can ruin his throat.”

Lustine seemed to consider her options but eventually nodded and reached for her clipboard, writing down a note and handing it over to Louis. “That will be ready as soon as you drop it off at your pharmacy.” Harry snuggled into Louis’ embrace, nuzzling his face against the older boy’s chest.

“I’m scared,” Harry mumbled, his bottom lip trembling.

“I know, love, you’re alright,” Louis soothed, looking to Lustine for help.

“We have a lot to discuss, boys,” she said. Lustine rolled her stool toward them and took Harry’s free hand. “There’s going to be a lot of things that are about to change, Harry, and I want you to be prepared for that. Your body is sick and we have to treat it.” Harry nodded as he removed his face from Louis’ neck. He sniffled, leaning into Louis’ touch as the older boy wiped at his eyes.

Louis cleared his throat, pushing away any tears that threatened him, and decided to start asking questions again. “What about chemotherapy?” he wondered.

Lustine sighed and shook her head. “Unfortunately, there have been no recorded cases of chemotherapy working well with this form of sarcoma tumors. We could try other forms of chemotherapy used on similar tumors, but there is no guarantee that they’d work properly,” she explained. “You have to know how much stress your body will be under should we try it.”

Everything in the room was silent, Louis clutching onto Harry while he tried to hold his composure. Harry’s cries turned to sniffles. Even Lustine didn’t have any words to say.  

Louis could feel when Harry swallowed, a sigh escaping his lips before he whimpered, “How long?”

Lustine looked at Louis and then back at Harry. She seemed to fish mouth for a moment, gaping at Harry. “How long until what, dear?” she finally settled with.

Harry cleared his throat and tightened his grip he had on Louis’ arm. “How long – do – well, you know, like, how long do I have…. What’s the life expectancy?” he managed out, stuttering through it. Louis stopped breathing as soon as the words left his boyfriend’s mouth.  

Dr. Lustine gave Louis a curt smile. “Normal life expectancy is always given five years, but in your case, Harry, I’d give you between ten and eleven, best case scenario.”  

“Ten years,” Harry repeated.

Louis finally took a breath and felt his world spin. He climbed off the table, ignoring Harry’s protesting whine, and went to the door, flinging it open and walking out into the hallway. He ignored the looks of the other patients in the waiting room as he reached the main entrance. He ignored the way his stomach churned at the thought of losing his boy, losing his soul mate.

Once he reached his car, Louis yanked it open and pulled his cigarettes from the middle compartment. He lit one up and slammed the door closed, leaning on it as he smoked.

A few moments later, he could see Lustine making her way outside, a sullen look written over her face.

“Don’t ask me why I walked out because I don’t have an answer for you,” Louis snipped. “I’m going to smoke this, and you can either stand here with me, or you can leave.”

Lustine nodded and leaned on the door beside Louis, sticking her hand out and asking for the cigarette. Louis snorted and handed it over.  

“Mr. Tomlinson, I’m on your side,” she said after taking a pull. Handing it back to Louis, she added, “Harry is with one of my nurses right now. You need to go talk to him.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis said, nodding. Lustine took the cigarette away from Louis and tossed it to the ground, pulling him into a hug, and leading him back into the building.

** I Can’t Stop Loving You – Ardhito Pramono **

Once the door to Harry’s room opened, Louis was mauled, Harry wrapping his arms around the boy’s neck and sobbing into his skin. “I’m sorry,” Harry said between his choked off cries. Louis shook his head and wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle and pulled him in, holding him as tightly as he could without crushing him. “This is all my fault,” he cried. “I’m going to die and you’re going to have to deal with me.”

“Harry, I’m not going to have to deal with you. You’re sick, love,” Louis said, trying to sooth him. “Let me take care of you.”

“I don’t want to fucking die, Lou,” Harry sobbed, his voice cracking with each vile cry that echoed in the room.

“You’re alright, love, you’re alright,” Louis soothed, lifting one hand to hold Harry’s head, the other wound safely around the boy’s back, holding them both steady. “I’m here,” he repeated over and over again, rubbing his fingers through Harry’s hair.

It wasn’t alright. Not by a long shot. But Louis promised himself, and Harry, that he was going to take care of his boy the best that he could. He was going to make sure Harry got the best treatment he could.

Louis was going to love his boy more than he’d loved anything else. He was going to make sure Harry was cared for, loved, and the happiest he could be.

Louis was going to fucking love Harry until he couldn’t anymore. Whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is a bit shorter, but I see it as a filler chapter of sorts. Be prepared for the next chapter. 
> 
> I love you all 
> 
> xxx   
> k


	12. part two chapter twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short little filler. please forgive me. i have been very very sick for the past week with flu/strep throat/pneumonia so this is about all i can stomach doing at one time. i am so sorry. i am so so sorry for not giving you guys what you need. please please forgive me. i love you all very much. so much its indescribable. all my love. k

Louis needed to call Anne. He needed to call Anne, Harry’s father, Louis’ parents, the boys. He had to call so many people. There was a chain of command Louis needed to follow, and suddenly, each step he had memorized in his mind on the way home from the doctor vanished into nothing like the cigarette smoking wafting away from his face.

When he and Harry walked out of the office, Louis gripped Harry’s hand and lead him to the car silently. Neither one made a sound as they climbed in the vehicle and drove away from the complex. Nothing was said as Louis rolled his window all the way down, chain smoking until his lungs hurt, tears steadily streaming down his face, his hand never once letting up on Harry’s fingers.

Nothing was said when Louis ran into the pharmacy to pick up Harry’s prescriptions, praying to the gods that he wouldn’t be recognized. Nothing was said when a man with a big camera followed Louis out to the car, clicking one picture as he climbed in, catching both boys in one shot. 

Nothing was said while the two boys made their way into the house and toed off their shoes, hanging up their jackets. It was quiet. Too quiet.

It was a silent hell.

Louis watched Harry retreat to the living room, heaving a blanket around his shoulders, whimpering in pain as he sat down. Once he knew the boy was situated, he made the two of them tea, grabbing a few biscuits and following Harry into the living room.

Placing the tea and snacks on the coffee table, Louis curled himself around Harry, his chest tightening as the frail boy fell into his embrace, his bottom lip worried between his teeth. Louis pulled the boy into his arms and wrapped him up, holding him as close as he could. Harry let out an awful, heart wrenching sound, clamping his eyes shut and shaking his head, like he wanted to stop the tears.

“You’re allowed to let go, love,” Louis said softly, his voice breaking on the last syllable. After that, Harry let go of his bottom lip and sobbed.

Louis felt his heart break.

“I have – I have to tell mum and – I –“ Harry hiccupped, his voice ragged and small. Louis shook his head and kissed Harry’s temple, shushing him.

“We can do that when we’ve calmed down. I promise, I’ll make the phone call,” Louis stated, rocking his boy in his arms to sooth him. “You’re alright, Harry. You’re alright.”  

Harry gripped Louis shirt tightly, his knuckles turning white. “The boys, they have to –“ hiccup “know, they have to, and my manager, Lou he has – he has to know.”

“All in due time, sunshine,” Louis smiled through his tears, soothing down the stray curls that had gone wild with Harry’s crying.

It wasn’t alright. It wasn’t something they could beat around the bush with. It wasn’t something that would go away any time soon. Louis knew that, as well as Harry. They both knew they had to make decisions and calls and appointments. They knew what needed to be done. But Louis couldn’t seem to let Harry go.

And he didn’t for the next three hours.

It was the grumbling in Harry’s stomach that finally made them get up and eat biscuits, their tea now cold.  

Louis let Harry go to make another round of tea, while Harry made himself nibble on the sweet snack, hopefully keeping it down for as long as he could.

When Louis made his way back to his boy, Harry was curled against the arm of the couch, a throw pillow gripped tightly between his fingers, the blanket still wrapped around his frame. One of the biscuits was half eaten on the table, and Louis felt his heart leap in his chest with pride. It was small, but it was something.

Louis woke Harry up long enough to take some pain killers and something for the nausea, then settled in next to him, rearranging the two of them where Harry was draped across Louis’ body.

Nothing else was said. No one cried, and no calls were made.

That could wait for a few more hours. Instead, Louis let himself drift to sleep for a little nap, holding his entire world within his arms.

~

 

** Forever & Always – Zeph  **

 

Four days later, Harry and Louis were watching as Harry’s family walked out of the house with tears in their eyes and a promise to come back as soon as they could. Harry held on to Louis’ hand while they climbed into a cab and drive away. As soon as the car was gone, Louis noticed Harry’s knees buckling before he dropped to the floor, the poor boy falling into Louis’ arms in a crying heap.

“I’m breaking their hearts,” Harry cried, hitting his fist against Louis’ shoulder until he was too tired to even lift his arm again.

Louis held Harry while he cried in the entryway, the memory of Gemma and Anne holding their boy just days prior.

Telling Harry’s family had gone nothing like it would in Louis’ head. It was just as bad, if not worse. There were tears, screaming, more tears, and a distinct feeling in the air that couldn’t be described with any words in the dictionary.

It was devasting, is what it was.

But Louis knew it was worse than that.

After the first day, Louis suggested they all go back to Harry’s home, claiming there were more bedrooms and a better environment for Harry to live instead of Cardiff. Anne and Gemma agreed, but only when Harry was healthy enough to go back. Harry agreed on the condition Louis come with him.

It was an easy decision, really.

Once Harry calmed down and his cries were whimpers, Louis helped the boy to his feet and lead him to the couch where he fed him a small snack along with his medications, washing it all down with a glass of water. Harry took it all graciously and snuggled up to Louis after doing so.

It was hours later when Louis finally worked up the heart to move Harry to his bigger bed while he began packing away his things.

Harry slept for a while longer, burrowing himself under the comforter and pillows. When he finally woke up, Louis was bringing in another glass of tea and some soup to rest easy on the boy’s stomach.

Harry ate quietly, watching Louis rummage through his room for clothes and whatever else he would need. After he finished his bowl, Harry went on the look for his phone to call the others.

While Louis finished up packing up everything he needed to go to Harry’s, Harry made the call to the boys and asked them to meet them back at his home. They all made their affirmative messages and promised to be there.

After Louis was finally finished, he called in take away dinner and ate while Harry slept soundly, promising Louis he wasn’t hungry after the soup he ate. Louis fell asleep only three hours before his alarm was set to go off to head for Harry’s home.

He dreamt of blankets of snow and fireplaces in winter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please dont hate me for being a shit writer. i am so very sorry if this is awful and unreadable. i love you so much. k


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